Incompatible
by DracinaStormsailor
Summary: Post ROTF. Ratchet finds himself in a dangerous situation and Ironhide is the one to help him, but is it a price the black mech wants to pay? Rating may change to M for furture chapters containing SLASH and Mpreg. Next chapter pending.
1. Sparkmates?

Alright, here's to my second fan fic. Be gentle, I pretty much never write in first POV so I'm terrified this is going to bomb.  
My first fan fic story for those who don't know is Nightspark, that's not in fist person POV so if this isn't your thing, try giving that story a try.

Anyways, since this story kind of popped out of my head without warning I feel it isn't fair for my first story to suffer so the updates on this one won't be as often as Nightspark which means you'll have to be willing to deal with irregularity here.

Now, I don't want people to start throwing things at me for what Ironhide says in his part so let me clarify this immediately. I have utmost respect for all military, especially for my country and what I wrote here does not reflect my personal views towards that. I don't think I wrote anything offensive but I just want to make sure it's known, no harm intended. This is just how I think an outsider's point of view would be, especially an alien's. I had a friend of mine once say something similar to this and that's where the idea came from originally.

Well, I hope this goes well so enjoy as best you can.

* * *

**Ratchet:**

Why do I always get myself in these situations? Seriously, I enjoy kicking Decepticon aft as often as the next Autobot but I'm not Ironhide, seriously, why?

_"Ratchet, what is your location?"_ Optimus responded on the comm.

"Too slaggin far way," I answered at first, thinking it quite a logical answer but knew what Prime really wanted, "Thirty miles west of our intended meeting area."

_"Sit tight, we are on our way. Bumblebee and Acree are dealing with a problem of their own at the moment and I had to send Prowl their way."_

"Problem?" I asked. I was desperate for a distraction from my own misfortune, "what kind of problem."

_"The same problem you're having only it starts with a B and ends with a Cade," _Prime told me and I can pick up that he was slightly annoyed I was asking something totally irrelevant to my own position instead of focusing on surviving.

"Just one problem?" I laughed, "I've got three."

_"Slag it Ratchet, why didn't you say something sooner. Who is it?"_

I could really hear the concern in his voice now.

"Oh, just the usual, Starscream, Soundwave, and Skywarp," I answered and cursed when a few pieces of blasted off rubble rained down on my head; not that it hurts or anything, it was just a close shot.

_"Hang tight, Ratchet, we'll be there in a few minutes."_

"Right," I muttered and dared to peek out from behind my shelter, big mistake. With a yelp, I fell back behind my shield gripping my smoking leg. Fragger got luck with that shot but I know it's not serious. It will hurt for a few days but nothing near life threatening. Thinking about injuries, that gets me worrying about Bee and Acree. Barricade is a nasty Con spat out from the depths of the Pit itself. The Selene police car has a dirty style of fighting, more so than usual among the Decepticons to the point where it became well known to all in the war. It's also no secret the slaggin Con is one of Megatron's best interrogators as well. I shudder to think of the battle between Barricade and the young innocent Bumblebee and slender figure of Acree. It is pretty devastating in my mind and the only thing that keeps me from rushing out to find them is that I know well to not underestimate the femme and that Bumblebee is more than a capable fighter with the personal training he gets from Ironhide.

Instead, here I am, hiding behind this rock having to wait for Optimus, Ironhide, and probably Inferno to show up and save my aft yet again. I guess it's the price to pay for being a medic. Built to save others but not myself. Maybe I would have to take Ironhide up on his offer to install a new weapon system on my frame, after a complete and thorough inspection of the equipment first of course.

Finally, a couple of minutes later and I'm breathing easier once they show up on my scanners. Yep, the three I originally thought. Giving me renewed strength, I forced myself up on to my injured leg and peeked out even slower to survey what's going on now. I see Starscream and Skywarp but no Soundwave. Maybe he's rushing out to meet the three incoming Autobots to give the chance for these two slaggers to take me out. Unfortunately for me, it's a common Decepticon tactic that tends to have a high success rate.

Putting my attention back to what I was doing I notice Starscream pauses and calls for Skywarp to cease-fire. I'm truly confused, what in the pit is going on? They're just crouching there, looking at me while Starscream is smiling as if Megatron himself just came over and appointed him the new Decepticon leader.

My answer comes soon enough when I hear a crunch of gravel behind me. With a curse I try to spin around in time to defend myself in some way but it's too late. Hot sharp searing pain flashes through my frame and all I see next is darkness.

**Ironhide:**

I was relaxing; quite nicely thank you, at our meeting point before it all went haywire. I had been the first to reach the destination near an hour early and decided to stretch out in my bipedal form under the sun till the others showed. We each had our simple missions around the world and were finally coming together again for the first time in a year. Boy did I miss a few of these mechs. I never realized how lucky I was to be in the Cybertronian army and not America's. Man these guys have more rules than a femme has for those around her newly created sparkling.

I mean we are military all the way. Ratchet is a medic, yes, but for the war he is a battle medic, a soldier as well. Then there's the youngling, Bee, he's a spy but a spy for the Autobots. It seems that maybe we give way to a little more personality in our army compared to America's. After all there's no "every one looks the same" thing with us, we aren't all green camo painted mechs walking around. And this strange "don't ask don't tell." I had to get Will to explain that to me, and what a shock. Mech on mech is pretty often in our race, we don't really specify gender but if we were humans it would still be the same. On top of that, inter military relations are frowned upon? What does that even mean? There are plenty of bonded in our army and we've never had a problem, some times Optimus even encourages us to find someone. Their army is pretty strange, but you know what, it's not really my place to tell them it's wrong. It works for them, pretty well I hear, so a gold star to the military.

There are a few things I do wish we would pick up. Required weapon qualifications. I mean, most of the soldiers that are in the action keep up with what they need to stay in top fighting condition but there are exceptions. It's not a requirement for any Bot, just an assumption he or she will do what is right. After basic training, which I am glad every soldier must go through, you can just pretty much kick it to the side. As in Ratchet's case, what he knows now is the same basic routines from basic training. Predictable moves that Decepticons already know like the back of their hands making medics such prime targets. I've tried and tried again to get the medic to change his routine, get some new ideas and more practice but Ratchet isn't one for orders and seems to really only listen to Optimus, one of the main reasons why he is the Autobot CMO. No one is above a medic's orders. I'm just glad that the young one, Bee listens to me and is in top condition for his own field. Heck, with the personal training I'm giving him he's even pretty good to hold his own in a normal fight, well in a normal unfair fight with Cons that is.

This is one reason why Prime sent us out across the country, a few going international, to learn to cohabitate with the humans and to possibly see if maybe they have done a few things that might improve our own way of living. I'm going to defiantly mention what I found out to him. He owes me that much after being stuck on a Primus forsaken base in the middle of nowhere with only Will to keep me company. The guy is great, really he his, a kindred spark but he had the luxury to come and go and wasn't always there. I nearly begged the general once to give Will clearance to take me with him once when he got leave but I just couldn't see the genius in a twenty six foot tall robot falling to his knees to plead with a man who barely topped six for some time off. Instead, with the suggestion from Will, I put in a request and of course the answer was no and I was stuck with processor numbing boredom. Geeze, no wonder I miss even Prowl's silent presence.

So here I am, half an hour to go and my scanner picks up two inbound Autobots, Prime and Inferno. I hop up as the two come rumbling in. They had met yesterday when their paths cross and decided to come together. Optimus is always suggesting we travel in pairs but we never really take it seriously. I quickly gave Optimus a very brief overview of my year with the American military and was nearly done when the first call for help came in.

_"Special Agent Bumblebee calling in a priority alert,"_ Bee called to us. It came on all our comms as standard procedure for any distress messages.

"Go ahead, Agent Bumblebee," Optimus answered immediately, dropping the casual tone he was using with me to the tough and hardened one of a leader.

_"I've met up with Acree but we've got a little problem here. Barricade is on our afts and isn't going away anytime soon. We could keep up a chase normally but he clipped Acree pretty badly and it's gonna be a matter of time before we have to give pause and fight."_

"Understand, Bumblebee. What is your location?"

_"We're still on the Interstate 10, I didn't think it wise to lead him back to our destination incase he is just leading more to launch a full out attack on all of us."_

"Is there much traffic?"

_"Surprisingly, not really, a few truckers but no other vehicles."_

"Alright, get away from the humans and off road it. Head south east of our destination by five miles. We'll meet you there."

_"I'll do my best to keep Acree going but I can't make any promises. I'll let you know if anything changes."_

And with that, Bumblebee was done, now focusing on his problem. I was already in my alt mode, revving to go and wondering why Optimus was still waiting.

"What's going on?" Inferno asked, also ready to head out and help.

"I need to call the others that aren't here yet. Maybe one of them is closer to help before we can get there."

"Can't we drive and do that at the same time?" I asked impatiently, Bee is in serious trouble. Barricade is not a Con to be taken lightly and the youngling sounded as if he would be fighting single handedly with the condition Acree was in.

Optimus glared at me for a moment before his optics dulled and I knew he was hailing his scattered soldiers on private comm lines.

"Another attack on Red Alert but he says he can handle it and Hotshot is nearly there to assist," Optimus sighed, flickering his optics when the connection ended.

"How do the slaggin Cons know about us coming together right now?"

"Well it wasn't exactly secret was it?" Optimus snapped and I was silent realizing I was pushing his patience.

_"This is Chief Medical Officer Ratchet calling in a priority alert,"_ my and Inferno's comm rang out since Optimus' is still tapped on to private comms.

We immediately froze. Ratchet, our medic was in trouble without anyone near him as well. In truth he is in the most deserted section of the area.

"What is the situation, Ratchet?" Optimus asked, immediately dropping whatever conversation he was silently having to talk to his old friend and soldier.

_"Slaggin Cons caught me by surprise."_

"Cons?" I asked in alarm, so far all the other Autobots had been attacked by only a single Decepticon.

Optimus too seemed worried.

"What is your location?" Optimus asked quickly.

_"Too slaggin far way,"_ I nearly snorted at his response, rely on Ratchet to be sarcastic in even the worst of times, _"Thirty miles west of our intended meeting area."_

"Sit tight, we are on our way. Bumblebee and Acree are dealing with a problem of their own at the moment and I had to send Prowl their way."

So that's whom he had been talking to, made sense now. Prowl wasn't one for public conversations.

_"Problem?" _Ratchet asked, _"What kind of problem?"_

There was Ratchet again thinking of others instead of himself. Optimus seemed to think the same thing I am thinking and shook his head but answered.

"The same problem you're having only it starts with a B and ends with a Cade."

_"Just one problem?"_ the medic laughed nervously, _"I've got three."_

I felt as if my spark was going to freeze with fear. Three Cons against a medic not built for such a brutal outmatched battle? It was suicide. We have to move now.

"Slag it, Ratchet, why didn't you say something sooner. Who is it?" Optimus yelled, clearly beginning to lose composure, as I knew for sure he was thinking what I was.

_"Oh the usual, Starscream, Soundwave, and Skywarp,"_ Rachet replied casually as if he was having a cube of energon with them.

Before Optimus responded we heard close by weapon's fire and a curse from the medic but without Ratchet voicing any complaint we knew he was still fine.

"Hang tight, Ratchet, we'll be there in a few minutes."

With that the conversation is over and we are racing towards him.

I must be in some kind of shock because I feel nothing but fear and dread on the drive over. It is defiantly a feeling I am not accustom to on the battlefield and have never felt it before. I've always been the emotionless one when it came to blasting apart Decepticon aft. Is it because of Ratchet that I am like this? Sure the medic had gotten into scrapes before but this one seemed different. I kept seeing flashes of him ripped apart lying across the desert ground rush through my mind. It's a toxic and overpowering image. I think even Optimus realizes something is wrong with me, but I'm not saying a word. No need to show weakness.

"I'm picking up three Decepticons straight ahead," Inferno alerted a few minutes later.

"They're retreating," Optimus said, sounding confused for a moment.

"Good," Inferno said but I thought otherwise. They were retreating; they had done what they had set out to do. Panic propelling me forward; I went even faster, out pacing Optimus and ignoring his yells to fall back into formation.

I slammed into a halt as I came upon the scene. This is worse than my imagination.

Ratchet, our medic, the best slaggin CMO the universe would ever have, is on the ground slashed open and draining energon onto the hard, dry ground as if it is water.

Optimus stopped growling curses at me when he finally saw what I saw.

Moving slowly, almost as if I was in a dream, I walked over to kneel next to Ratchet.

"Oh, Ratchet. Not like this," I hardly recognize my voice in its strangled whisper and reach out to pull the medic's broken frame into my arms.

I can't bear this war anymore. Too many innocents have been killed, too many of those who don't deserve it. Why should he be the one to go? Ratchet was a pure spirit sticking to his programming too well, helping even when Decepticons were in need. Now he is gone, forever.

Optimus came to my side and laid a hand on my shoulder, but to give comfort to me or support for himself, I don't know.

I scoop Ratchet up into my arms, ready to carry him on the long walk back to meet our comrades when my scanner suddenly detects a small strange energy flare. Pausing, I double-check the reading…spark energy?

"Ratchet?" I ask, unable to believe what I'm seeing. I have to look down at his exposed spark chamber to verify it.

As if answering to my voice, his optics flash on and he arches his back pitifully, giving a strangled cry of pain.

"Ratchet!" Optimus gasped.

Ratchet is hanging like dead weight in my arms, but nonetheless I know he is alive when his optics lock onto mine as he gasped for air, any air. Primus, Soundwave has really done a number on him.

"Relax, we'll get you to base soon and First Aid will patch you up."

He shakes his head weakly.

"You need help!" I argue.

"Won't…make it…" he tries to explain.

"Tell us what to do. Tell me what to do, Ratchet."

"Spark is weak," he whispered, his optics are dulling and I know he's falling towards recharge, or worse, stasis.

"Do you know how to strengthen his spark?" I ask Optimus immediately, almost desperately I'm surprised to say. The Autobot leader shakes his head sadly but thank all the gods of the universe as suddenly Inferno speaks up.

"I do."

Looking back down to give Ratchet the good new I see he's already off line. Slag it, I don't need medical knowledge to tell me he's in stasis.

"Tell me, hurry."

"I've heard of this happening. It's the one sure way on the battlefield to help strengthen a spark to buy more time for them to reach a medic's help."

"What is it?" I really am getting desperate. This medic has grown on me. I'm going to have to change that.

"Spark bonding."

The word hangs in the air and I can't help but look at Inferno like he's gone and blown his processor. That can't be right. Spark bonding is the medical secret to surviving this type of situation.

"It's the only thing that is solid proof," Inferno said as if he could hear my thoughts.

I look over at Optimus, waiting for an order. I just can't compute anything any more. My own processor is frozen.

"I can't," Optimus sighed, and it sounded as if those two words were the most painful thing he has ever spoken in his life.

That simple response brings me back to reality as I wonder why. But then I remember and I can't blame him. No one could ask Prime to do this. He was already bonded to anther and to eliminate that bond to create another would kill his current sparkmate. Such a request was too high and ludicrous. When you think about it what's the gain? Optimus would essentially be trading one life for another. And that other life would be one he deeply loved.

Next to me, Inferno shifted uncomfortably thinking he was the next in line for the question but I all ready knew and accepted what was going to happen. Every one knew Inferno and Red Alert had their optics on each other and I couldn't take that away from them. It would be cruel.

Me, on the other hand, I'm Mister Solitude. I have no one in my life and when I think about it, I'm probably the only other mech in the entire universe that can handle the medic. So I guess it's decided. Primus help me, I'm going to be Ratchet's sparkmate.

* * *

What did you think?

Reviews are much appricated and tell me if I'm on the right track or not.  
Even if you aren't logged in or a member, you can still leave a review. ^^


	2. A Wrenchless Medic

I know, I know! I said I wouldn't let my other story, Nightspark, suffer but I'm obviously a hippocrite. While I would originally be updating the next chapter on that story, instead I found myself finsihing the next on this one. I'm such a bad person. :(

Anyways, I couldn't stop the ideas flowing out of my mind and had to break down and write it. I've been focusing on it all day so I hope it's good, and error free.

**_Transformers Information_**

Vorn- 83 years  
Orn- 13 days  
Joor- 8 hours  
Breem- 6 minutes  
Astrosecond- 5/6 seconds  
Klick- 1 millisecond  
_(I don't know if those are accurate measurements but that's I've always gone by so it's what I'm using.)_

"Normal speak"  
_"Comm speak"  
_**_"Private comm speak"  
::Bonded speak::_**

* * *

**Ironhide:**

"I can't believe this is happening," I hear Inferno mutter behind my back as I allow my armor shielding my spark casting to pull back.

Normally these things are done privately, and more importantly, mutually, but Ratchet doesn't have time for me to wake him up and ask permission. Instead, I'm the one deciding for both of us. Now it's up to Primus for the next step. Just because I'm merging our sparks doesn't mean it'll work. Sparks that aren't compatible cause intense pain to the two trying to merge while in some rare cases, a few have died from the process. Good news, I am willing to risk my life in the hope to save Ratchet's and if we died from the process anyways, well it's not like the medic really lost any thing and if it's my time to go I will do so peacefully.

Ratchet's spark chamber is so exposed that I don't have to worry about removing the usual obstacles out of the way. Shifting his position in my arms, so I can align our chests together, I bring him closer.

Strange, its almost as if my spark is reaching towards him and I can swear I see his flaring excitedly at the presence of my own so close. Giving quick prayer to Primus, I pull Ratchet against me and our sparks bush together.

I can't suppress the gasp that escapes me from the brief shock of pure pleasure. At first our sparks stay still just brushing each other lightly but then Ratchet's seems to leap forward, desperate to merge with mine. A million sensations are running through me. I can feel myself as Ratchet lying in my arms and I can feel all his injuries and pain. Wave after wave assaults me, the initial pleasure is still lingering but what I'm receiving now is mostly pain: crippling, horrible pain. How is the medic even still alive? I can feel all his damage, the weakness of his spark, but it's growing stronger now, leeching the strength it needs from mind to balance us together and make us two halves of a whole.

"Ironhide!" I hear Optimus shout and I realize he has been trying to get my attention for some time now.

With a painful groan I pull back and Ratchet's spark tries to hold to mine, desperate for relief and strength but I can't hold on or I'll offline myself.

"Ironhide?" he asked softer knowing that I heard him finally.

"Prime?" I asked tiredly and look up to see my leader kneeling next to us.

"Are you alright?"

My systems are working overtime and I can hear my cooling fans struggling to keep me from heating up but it's not working. I didn't even realize I was shaking till I actually looked at myself. No wonder Optimus looks so worried.

"I…I don't know," and that was the truth. With Ratchet's pain still vivid in my systems, I seemed numb to my own.

"Hold in there. You think it was enough?" he asked.

"Yes. His spark is much stronger," I answered quietly. I felt the darkness of a forced recharge pressing down on my and I think Optimus must have notice because suddenly I jerked up at a sting on my face. He slapped me! What is wrong with the fragger?

"Sorry, I can't have you falling apart on me, Ironhide. You don't get the luxury Ratchet gets so stay awake."

"Luxury?" I snort and double over as a wave of Ratchet's pain rushes through me.

Optimus looks at me with concern. Right now is a critical situation. With the success of a bonding now two lives were at stake. If we didn't take advantage of the time I gave Ratchet than his death would be mine as well.

"Why are we still sitting here?" I asked, forcing myself to try and stand but Optimus pushes me back down.

"Help is coming to us, Ironhide. Just relax and focus on keeping you and Ratchet alive till then."

I looked around and saw that Inferno wasn't there.

"He went to help direct First Aid in this direction," he said, reading my thoughts.

"What about Wheeljack?" Ratchet's condition could need multiple mechs to help him.

"Sent over to Bee. Prowl said he's in pretty bad shape along with Acree."

Just great, I'm over here connected to a dying Bot while my charge might be dieing at the same time and I'm too far to comfort him or help. What a great day this turned out to be.

**Ratchet****:**

I'm waking up? I can't believe I'm actually waking up. I thought I was going to the matrix for sure, I remember seeing Jazz and everything. What a strange experience, but most of all, why?

"Ratchet? Online your optics for me," I heard Ironhide say and did I suddenly feel a rush of strength?

I'll deal with that question later, let me just figure out what's going on first.

Bringing my optics online I see I'm at the base, the medical bay to be exact, and on my back surrounded by Ironhide, First Aid, Optimus, and Wheeljack.

"What happened?" I mean I obviously know what happened but I don't know the full extent of the damage.

"You were up against three Cons. By the time we got there they fled. You probably know more than us," Optimus told me. He seemed quiet relieved to have me awake.

"How long has it been?"

"An orn."

"What? What did that slagger do to me?"

"Hey, take it easy," Ironhide said, laying a hand on my shoulder, gently pushing me back down onto the bed. That was odd. The black mech wasn't one for affection and why did I feel calmer? What the slag was going on?

"I'm the fraggin CMO, don't tell me to calm down. I know my limits," I snapped, pushing his hand away.

"You don't even know your injuries," First Aid sighed and slapped a hand to his forehead. It's an annoying habit he got from me, and who can blame him when we work with idiots all the time?...Wait a second! I'm not an idiot!

At the same time I see Optimus shaking his head and Ironhide rolling his optics. These slaggers are treating me like a sparkling! I'll teach them different. A piece of mind should correct this situation. Just as I get ready to rip a new hole in their afts, Optimus seems to know what I'm about to do and cuts me off before I can even open my mouth.

"Well, now that I see you're safe for the moment, I have matters to attend to. I'm glad you're back with us, Ratchet. Get well soon," Optimus said and left with a small wave over his shoulder.

"He's in a good mood now that everyone injured is awake at least," First Aid noted and Ironhide grunted to show he agreed.

"Every one injured?" I asked, my anger with them immediatly draining away as I slipped back into the comfortable role of a concerned medic. Okay, maybe not concerned, but at least worried...You don't believe me do you?

"Well Bee and Acree went up against Barricade. Acree wasn't in a good condition to fight so that pretty much left Bee to a one and one battle with Barricade. By the time Prowl got there, Bee had inflicted a good amount of damage but it wasn't enough and he was seconds from crossing over to the matrix. Strange enough, Prowl said Barricade hit full retreat at his arrival and seemed to completely forget that Bee was at his mercy."

"How is he now?" I had to know if the pride and joy of the Autobots was okay.

"Better, limping around the base trying to become involved in any thing, but with Optimus' strict order, none are letting him touch anything without clearance by me and Prime."

"And Acree?"

"Doing very well, she had a faster recovery and is running around the base as if she was Bee's age. She's been hanging around Bee at all hours of the day, helping him or keeping him company. Acree really feels that she owes a lot to the youngling since him fighting Barricade technically saved her life. He protected Acree when she couldn't keep going and kept the Con away from her. Bee said that she was Barricade's original target and Bee was meant for some one else but they didn't know the two were traveling together so he switched priority to the youngling."

"Just what are they planning by targeting those that aren't wreakers?" I asked, thinking out loud.

"Yeah, on top of that, though not as serious, Red Alert and Hotshot got into it, but the twins and Blur get the medal to an actual kill from all these battles. Sunstreaker said that he and his brother weren't targeted either, the Con was after Blur. It was lucky they crossed paths because Blur had been taken by surprise and was down for the count."

"This is dangerous. All those targeted aren't fighters. Me, Bee, Blur, Acree, and I bet the Con was after Red Alert, not Hotshot. See what's going on here? They're trying to lessen our numbers by taking out the weakest yet most valuable of us, they just didn't really expect the targets to get help so quickly or for little yellow spies to have superior fighting skills."

"What can I say? He's a chip off the old shoulder," Ironhide said with a shrug, but was unable to suppress his grin.

"Well for once, Ironhide, I'm not going to argue about the training you give him anymore. It's probably what saved him and Acree this time and I want it to be that way next time too," I responded, barely suppressing the cringe as I realized I had just given praise to the I'm-right-you're-wrong-and-if-you-say-anything-different-you'll-get-to-meet-my-cannons-personally mech. Primus, I'm such an idiot and I can't help but groan as I see that all too familiar smile of victory creep onto Ironhide's face.

"I think you just gave me a compliment, Ratchet," he chuckled and I realized he would save his gloating for later, "are you sure you're feeling all right?"

"No, you fragger. When have I ever said I feel all right? I feel as if Primus has taken my frame in his hands and twisted each end in an opposite direction."

"Well you might have less damage if he did that," First Aid said absently before resuming his quiet talking with Wheeljack and checking over the monitors that were feeding him information about my condition.

"I wish I could say I'll make Soundwave pay but I'd be 'blowing smoke out my aft' as the humans say. I can't fight well enough to take on a sparkling Con."

"Ain't that the truth," Ironhide snorted.

Great, just what I need, more sarcasim. Where's a slaggin wrench when you need one? He's lucky I'm confined to this bed or else that cocky look of his would be replaced with a painful grimace as he nursed a dent on his thick head.

"I've tired, haven't I, again and again to teach you to and make you practice but noooo, you've always got something better to do," Ironhide said. That fragger was actually acting smug now that he had been proven right.

"Why are you still here?" I asked, realizing that First Aid and Wheeljack were gone and that left only Ironhide at my side, something highly unusual. The weapon specialist would only stay in the medical bay if I strapped him down or for Bumblebee and First Aid had said the youngling was discharged.

Ironhide rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably as he suddenly found the ceiling interesting. He seemed hesitant, unsure. Another first for the big mech. I'm really getting confused now.

"Ratchet, you remember anything about…er…when I found you?"

"No, not really, just seeing your face but that's all," I answered truthfully, my memory files for that time seemed damaged.

"Well, you managed to tell us how to help you. You said your spark was weak and you wouldn't make it back to First Aid. Well…uh…Inferno heard of a procedure to help you and…well it was all we had."

Why doesn't this sound promising? Ironhide is always so sure of himself. I've never seen him so uncomfortable and unsure in the entire time I've known him, and Primus as my witness, it's been a fraggin long time. On top of that, why is he explaining this to me instead of my pupil, or at least Wheeljack? There isn't one certified-to-explain-medical-conditions bolt on his entire black frame.

"Ok, what was it?" I pushed, I need to know and having him draw it out isn't helping. Primus, where's First Aid?

"Uh, well, I don't know how to say it. I think you might not…um…take to it well," he said, dropping his gaze to the ground at his feet.

Whoa, what's got big-rough-and-tough-Ironhide so flustered?

"Spit it out Ironhide!" I growled.

"I…I'm your sparkmate," he blurted and now was defiantly looking away.

"Nice try," I laughed, "that's a joke."

Ironhide swung his optics back to my face; his expression was dead serious.

"No joke, Ratchet. There was nothing we could do, and I couldn't just let you die. I merged our sparks together and thank Primus we accepted each other," he said and there you go, the Ironhide I knew was back. No more embarrassed, uncertain mech.

"Not possible. There's no way I'm compatible with a mech like you."

Ironhide sighed and looked around the room for a way to prove his point and quickly found it. Going to a nearby table he lifted up scissors Sam left in here while he was keeping me company and smashed the sharp point down on his palm.

I gasped, not in surprise to what he did, but instead to the surprise of the instant, mirrored pain in my own palm.

"Impossible," I said breathlessly and Ironhide, silent, tore the scissors back out, tossing them onto the table.

"No it's not. I'm your slaggin bonded partner and this is real."

"Primus help me." I allowed myself to fall back onto the bed as I stared up at the ceiling lost in a mixture of rushing thoughts and emotions.

Ironhide seemed exhausted and he collapsed into the nearest chair he could find.

"Are you alright?" I asked, immediately picking up my medic role although I was lying down on a bed.

"Yeah," he sighed, "I just need a moment. I was expecting a complete melt down to be honest."

"Don't give up on me yet. This might just be shock," I responded with a half accomplished smile but didn't receive any thing back from the weapon specialist. It seemed now that the news was out he was withdrawing back into that hardened emotional shell of his.

"Sooo…" I began and he looked back over at me but said nothing, "What do we do now? I don't really have any idea on the whole waking up and finding I have a life long partner."

"You're the medic, not me. I don't know a thing about all this," he grunted.

"Well, before we get wild and crazy," Ironhide gave me a look at that one, "I'm interested in some thing."

He said nothing so I took it as permission to continue. Ironhide's a hard mech to figure out unless you've known him for a long time, and even then the tough guy was hard to read.

"Um, well," great now it's my time to be nervous, "the bonding…er…do you regret it?"

Ironhide flinched as if I had walked up and punched him in the face. His expression was priceless as he just sat there in shock, mouth open but unable to respond.

"Do you?" I managed to whisper. I had to know if this could actually work. If he didn't accept it, it would only delay my death longer and take him along with me. It's happened before. Two mechs, or similar pairings, regretting their bonds and pulling away from each other ends with a very long and painfully drawn out death.

"I…" he said and shook his head, "No."

Relief flooded my system. While Ironhide wasn't at the top of my "to bond with" list, what mattered now was that we at least have a chance in working this out.

"Did you think that I would reject what happened?" he asked, sitting straighter, "Do you really think I'm the type to save your life to only give you a more horrible end later?"

Scratch the relief. Now guilt is punching me in the stomach. How stupid am I to actually suggest that Ironhide would even do that to me? He might be a hard mech to get along with but Ironhide is any thing but cruel, that's why he's an Autobot. Slag, I don't even deserve to be alive.

"Don't say that," he growled and I didn't even realize he had move to my side.

"What?" I asked in surprise.

"You do deserve to live, Ratchet. That's why I did what I did."

"Can you read my thoughts or something?" this is catching me off guard.

"No, idiot," he groaned, rolling his optics, "You must have been thinking out loud."

"Oh!" I really am an idiot.

Ironhide chuckled and I looked at him in alarm. A chuckling Ironhide wasn't usually a good thing but I sensed no present danger.

"I'm glad you're well now. I'm going to get some rest. I won't be far. First Aid gave me a bed in here since I insisted on staying with you till you could leave under your own power," he said and left quietly.

Wow, did Ironhide just admit to being concerned about me? It's a strange feeling to have someone like Ironhide to be watching over me, worrying about my condition, but at the same time, it's quite comforting. I've always seen the mech being protective around Bee but I've never given it any thought as to what it would be like in such a position to wiggle your way into his spark. No wonder Bee hardly has any complaints about his large guardian. Ironhide radiates security and comfort to those he cares about and now I'm one of those on his tiny list.

While I could dwell on all this sudden information longer, I can feel my frame screaming at me for rest. Thinking it best to deal with this later, I offline my optics and run my recharge program.

* * *

Ironhide: Wow, Dracina has gone and lost it. I mean who in their right minds would pair us together?

Ratchet: Nonsense, I have detected no abnormalities in her systems.

Ironhide: You're a complete idiot you know that right? She's crazy, not broken; scans won't tell you anything.

Ratchet: Oh, yes of course. Because I didn't aim a cannon at her and yell "what the slag is wrong with you!" means I'm the idiot. Smart thinking.

Ironhide: *says smugly* It works for me.

Ratchet: *rolls his optics and sighs* I'll be sure to ask for your wonderful expertise next time.

Ironhide: As to the rest of you mechs and femmes, leave reviews or else! *cannons begin powering up and crackling with energy*

Ratchet: *barely suppresses a snort of laughter* You're about as intimitating as a sparkling.

Ironhide: Shut up you fragger! *aims at Ratchet*

Ratchet: *throws wrench at Ironhide's head* Thank Primus I had one on me this time. *grins at the sound of successful contact*

Ironhide: *blinks stupidly and stands still*

Ratchet: That's better. *waves wrench threatening* Leave reviews! *smiles innocently* It's much appricated.


	3. Glitching Humans

Hello my beloved readers. A third chapter, and a lot sooner than predicted. Also, for those enjoying my second story, Nightspark too has been updated with the newest chapter.

A few quick things. First, I've always had a bit of trouble when it comes to humerous scenes, one main reason why Nightspark is so dark. I do depression better and in truth the actual original version of Nightspark is very gruesome but some one told me it was too much for most people so I had to kind of back off. This chapter was not at all what I planned and instead turned into an attempt towards a funny idea of how the transformers viewed humans. I really do hope this is good.

Also, Mikaela had more colorful language written out in this chapter, but I didn't think it was right to have to change my rating just for language. We'll just save that when we come to the real reason for those ratings. Besides, the chapter didn't really seem to suffer from the lack of profanity so it's a win-win.

Now, thanks to all the reviews. I have very happy to the results this has gotten in such a short time. It's doing even better than my first story, what a shame.

Please enjoy.

* * *

**Ratchet:**

"How are you feeling?" Mikaela asked after First Aid picked her up and placed her on the bed next to me.

"Better," I told her and thankfully she believes me. Nothing is worse than a slagged off Mikaela, especially when you tell her so. I'll never forget that day.

_Orns Ago (6 months)…_

"Damn it Ratchet! I'm not twenty feet tall, come down here so I can look at you correctly!" she yelled, hitting me on the leg with a heavy wrench of her own. Lucky for me it was the human sized one or else she could have done serious damage. Trust me, I know just how powerful a wrench can be.

"Mikaela, is something wrong? You seem unusually hostile," I noted, bending down to look at her.

"Hostile!" she screeched so loudly I had to pull back slightly to save my audio receptors, "I'll give you hostile!"

I just stood there in shock as she began screaming a stream of inaudible sentences and smacking the wrench into the closest thing next to her, my leg. I was at a complete loss in the sudden transformation of this human femme. What was happening? Was she malfunctioning? Of course, being a concerned medic and all, I decided to examine her further.

Let me tell you, she did not like being interrupted with me picking her up and holding her in the air by the back of her shirt as I ran scans over her again and again.

"You bastard! Put me down! I swear, I'll bash your fraggin head in!" she yelled, among countless other profanities, as she kicked and squirmed, but doing nothing to me since she was suspended by her clothes.

"Ratchet!" I heard some one yell behind me and I looked behind me to discover I had an audience.

Bee stood frozen in shock with Sam in his hand. The young human mech was staring at me like his eyes were about to pop from his head and his mouth was hanging open. There must be some sort of glitch in these humans and that's why they act so strangely at random intervals. Standing beside them was an equally surprised Ironhide with a fuming Will standing in his palm. It was he who had shouted at me.

"Hello William," I said and turned fully around, swinging the still yelling Mikaela with me. Primus, she just wouldn't stop. Where was all that energy coming from?

"What do you think you're doing!" he screamed and that seemed to break Ironhide and the two others out of their shock, "Put her down!"

"I am not so sure if that is a good idea, Mikaela seems to be malfunctioning and I wanted to make sure she was alright," I told him.

"Malfunctioning!" Mikaela shrieked, her voice nearly rupturing my audio receptors. My two fellow Autobots also winced while the humans seemed unaffected. I wonder what their secret is to withstanding such a powerful weapon these human femmes possess.

Will was absolutely seething with anger and it seemed that Mikaela's bonded partner Sam was closely following.

It must be a virus! First Mikaela then Will and now Sam.

I looked back at the squirming femme hanging from my fingers and run yet another scan.

"Ratchet! Stop!" Sam yelled and was attempting to climb down off of Bee's hand. Will had already gotten away from Ironhide.

"It's alright. I discovered it's a virus and once I have a full scan of all three of you I can stop it."

Will paused in mid step and looked back at Sam, matching confused looks.

"Wait," Will said, seeming to force himself to calm down as his optics were still locked onto Mikaela who was still hanging about twenty feet in the air by her shirt, "a virus? What does this virus do?"

Oh! Will must be fighting against it since he seemed much calmer.

"Well, I was working with Mikaela suddenly transformed into this hostile creature you see now."

I was startled by their reactions.

Sam had reached Will's side and after sharing another look both fell on top of each other howling with laughter. These humans are incredibly strange.

What caught me off guard was the choking laughter from Bee's as well as he leaned against the doorframe for support.

"What?" I asked, annoyed that they might be laughing at me.

Sam and Will managed to get a grip on themselves and stood straighter but held huge grins on their faces.

"Ratchet," Sam said slowly, "Mikela's a girl."

"I know well that she is a femme."

"No, you don't understand. Mikaela is a _girl._ I don't think your femmes have the same functions ours do. Search…um…a little help here Will. What can he search for on the internet to explain this?"

"PMS," he said, struggling to keep from laughing again.

I noticed Mikaela had stopped struggling and saw she was now giving death glares to the two human mechs. That was definatly a glare that could freeze circuits.

"Very well, I will check on your proposition first before proceeding," I told them but before I could connect to the Internet, I received an upload from Bee. He attached a message to it saying it would explain everything.

Quickly I went over it, the information only took a breem to process.

"Oh," I said and blinked, "Oh! I'm so sorry Mikaela!"

She only growled in response.

Gently I set her down and backed away.

Everyone was quiet now, even Sam and Will had shuffled a safe distance away from Mikaela as they could some how sense she was still on the hunt for a source to vent out her frustration.

"Did I miss something here? Is she glitching or not?" Ironhide asked, speaking for the first time since he arrived. BIG mistake. Mikaela flew at him with newfound fury. I've never seen the gruff, old warrior run so fast.

Ah, yes, I will never repeat such a process again and am well prepared for taking it easy around Mikaela.

However, as she sits next to me, looking over my still obviously damaged frame, she seems calm today.

"Today First Aid finally agreed to let us come and see you. Even though you've been training me, he would let me anywhere near you while you were offline," she said, running a hand over one of my side panels slowly making me involuntarily shiver at the pleasure. Of course, my protégé had no idea what she was doing so I remained silent at her touch not wanting to embarrass her and possibly trigger another angry explosion.

"Well, First Aid is a very protective mech," I told her, "he doesn't trust new medics easily."

"You consider me a medic?" she asked, smiling.

"Sure, I'm training you and you've been doing quiet well. I think you may receive the actual title in time. Eventually all the humans we know will be apart of our faction. It's Optimus' plan. Will, Epps, and the NEST soldiers are already seen as fellow warriors and Optimus treats them as if they were his own."

"What about Sam, Secretary Keller, Simmons, Maggie, and so on?"

"They too will be labeled as Autobots, except for Sam. Optimus can't put that on him. As the Cybertronian liaison, he must be on neutral ground, not Autobot's. We do, however, have the right to protect him."

"Poor Sam. I think he really has his heart set on being apart of you guys. He'll hate it if everyone else but him gets that acknowledgement."

"Well, he'll be lucky to be bonded to a Autobot medic," Ratchet said.

Mikaela blushed but shook her head.

"How many times do we have to tell you Ratchet? We don't bond like you guys do."

"I'm sorry," I sighed, "It's hard to think that you can love as deeply as we do without having the same connection."

"I know, I know. Trust me, many women on this planet wish we did have spark bonding. There is nothing harder than catching a man and pinning him down comfortably with children and a life long commitment."

I didn't really understand the metaphor she used and just decided to nod to give the appearance that I understood and was listening. She seemed content with the response.

"So then, when will you be up and running?" she asked.

"Is that another one of your human sayings because I have no intention on running unless it's for my life or to help my fellow Autobots?"

"Oh, sorry. When will you be good enough to go back to work?"

"A couple of orns…I mean a few weeks. I'll be back in top physical condition in less than a month if all goes according to plan."

"That's a long time," she said sounding concerned.

"Well, Soundwave did some nasty damage to a few of my internal systems that will take a while to completely heal but it's not a problem. I'm past the worst part."

"Doubt that," she laughed.

"Huh?"

"Ironhide. I heard you two are bonded. I can't imagine this is going to be a quiet relationship."

"Excuse me?" Is she insulting me? These humans always confuse me with the way they suddenly change their thoughts and perform random actions, not to mention all those slaggin confusing sayings they have.

"You temper up against Ironhide's? I already know that the two of you are going to butt heads pretty often, especially with you two being such opposites."

I groaned. I had been putting the situation off, fearing the same thoughts that Mikaela was now saying. It was obvious. With the two of us together, things were bound to get ugly. Why did that fragger have to go and get heroic on me?

**Ironhide:**

Laughing woke me up and groggily I forced my self to sit up. My systems beeped a small alarm at me, alerting I hadn't gotten enough recharge. Strange, I rested for the usual amount of time I always did, if not a little longer.

Whatever, I must be glitching because I haven't had any energon yet.

Laughter again and this time I can pick out the distinctive sounds of Ratchet, Mikaela, and Sam. I wonder what they're doing and slide off the bed without much grace as I stumble for a moment so my bad leg can stretch and catch up with the rest of my frame. Slag, sometimes it sucks to be old, take that back, ancient. I'm one of the oldest fraggers from Cybertron still alive. I'm so old that I remember there once was a time of peace for my race. It's something I fear my charge, Bumblebee, will never experience or die before it is achieved.

Sighing, I leave my temporary quarters and walk over to where Ratchet is.

"Hey, 'Hide!" Sam calls as I enter. He's sitting next to his bonded partner, Mikaela, by Ratchet's side.

"Hello, Samuel," he grimaces at the name but I've always been the one Autobot he can't sway to say his nickname.

"Ironhide, he likes to be called Sam," Ratchet said, glaring at me. Ha, nice try Ratchet, like that look is suddenly going to change my mind.

"And I want all the Decepticons gone but that's a long time in coming isn't it," I respond back, giving him my personal favorite I-dare-you-to-argue-with-me look.

Ratchet shook his head. I'm surprised he gave in so easy. The medic isn't one to back down from a challenge on his reputation.

"Sorry Sam," he told the human mech instead.

"Don't sweat it, Ratchet. 'Hide's a tough guy; I wouldn't want to push him too far. I can live with Samuel as long as the rest of ya'll don't say it too."

I grunted at my despised nickname. What was so hard about adding the "Iron" before it? It's one reason why he won't get his nickname out of me. Not till "Hide" disappears.

Mikaela looked at my reaction to the much-hated name and giggled. She found it funny the small things like that were the ones to get into my wiring and make me mad. Not like she's one to talk with her own strange femme switch that turns her from cute to pure evil. I swear, I take no threats seriously but when some one calls for Mikaelato deal with me, I run.

The femmes on this world would make great warriors for us. They come automatically equipped with damaging high frequency sound waves and vengeance like no one's business. On top of that, from what Will told me once, after making sure the femme wasn't there, was that they plan deceit and trickery to trap unsuspecting victims. Most of that time those victims are males.

Human femmes are strange creatures and I must give credit to the human mechs that can live in harmony with them and have normal lives. It's almost like they have their own magic charm over the femmes to make them happy and calm them down when they're shrieking at their highest capacity. Strangely, these human mechs have some sort of Primus given immunity to such damaging attacks. I wish Ratchet would learn what it was and install it in our own audio receptors.

I can laugh just thinking about it. Getting a sack of these femmes and lobing them at the Decepticons while they are screaming. Those fraggers will be cringing so badly that they'll never even hear us charging at them till it's too late. Maybe I'll suggest it to Prime.

"Do you need something Ironhide?" Ratchet snapped, dragging me out of my sweet daydreaming of tearing apart Decepticon afts.

"No. I just came over to check on you," I said, using my best patience to control my anger. It's not really fair to the guy if I go after him while he's recovering.

Ratchet looked at me with surprise, as he was sure I was going to come back with some insult.

"Congratulations," Sam said, smirking, "on your bonding. Never really figured you for the mech type."

Growling I stalked over to the boy. While Ratchet was still hurt, Sam was not and significantly smaller. Something he seemed to remember as I shadowed over him. Even Mikaela seemed slightly scared at my looming presence.

"What was that, boy?" I asked quietly, bending low so my face was level with him and was staring optic to optic.

"Uh," he gasped, swallowing hard while trying to come up with a way to wiggle out of my wrath.

"I'm waiting."

"Just apologize," Mikaela hissed in his ear. What good advice she had. I'm sure she was just desperate to not see her bonded smashed into pulp.

"Um, yeah," he said, nodding stupidly at her suggestion, "sorry Ironhide. I didn't mean any offense. If you swing that way it's not my place to judge."

"Wrong answer," Ratchet chuckled and Mikaela groaned, covering her eyes.

Sam yelped as I grabbed him and started towards the medical bay's entrance.

"What are you doing?" he managed in a squeaky voice.

"I don't want to make a mess in Ratchet's medical bay. Your blood may contaminate some sensitive instruments," I told him in the most serious voice I could muster.

It was quite humorous to see the color drain from his face as he thought for sure I would play out the threat. Unfortunately, Optimus' orders hold a high status so Sam is safe, for now.

I set him down in the hallway and aim one of my largest cannons directly at him. He yelps again and looks around franticly for help from any one. Blur is approaching and Sam yells out to him.

"Help! He's going to kill me!"

"YouthinkIwanttojoinyou?" Blur asks in disbelief and steps over the human and keeps going, not even looking back. Priceless.

"What the hell is the point of being a liaison if no one saves me from Ironhide!" he yelled, falling to his knees dramatically. This youngling really knows how to make a scene.

I snort, unable to contain the laughter and Sam looks up at me in alarm. He was sure I was going crazy now and it would be the end.

"Because you actually called me by my real name I will let you live," his face lit up, "on one condition."

"Anything!" he said, scrambling to get back on his feet.

"Get out of my cannon's range in five seconds," I said cradling my cannon as if it was a sparkling and added as an after thought, "and it's a long range."

Sam stood frozen to the spot.

"Four seconds."

I didn't even see the blur he left behind he moved so fast.

Chuckling, I went back inside and found Mikaela waiting, hands on her hips.

"Slag," I groaned. This did not look promising. Primus, why didn't I take into the factor that maybe I would frag off Mikaela by messing with her bonded?

"What did you do to my boyfriend?" she growled when she saw there was no Sam entering with me.

"Nothing to worry about. He's just jogging around the base," I said helplessly, taking a slow step backwards.

Ratchet was laughing so hard his vocalizer had seized up and was unable to make noise.

"Really?" she asked, now advancing towards me, "and just what might have prompted him to do that?"

"Uh, a big lunch?" I tried and took another step back.

"Wrong answer," she growled.

"Slag it!" I screamed as she came at me. I took down the hallway, moving so fast I passed up a startled Blur along the way from my desperate escape from the evil femme.

* * *

Well, tell me what you guys think? If I don't get a good response telling me that I did decently well then I might not attempt my hand at funny again.

Last, REVIEWS! Please!

Or else I might have to get Ironhide knocking at your door with his cannons or have Ratchet at your next medical check up.

*points finger at readers* Don't tempt me.


	4. Dealing With The Ironhide Problem

Two apologies! One is for tricking you guys into thinking this story was updated again. Nope, I just forgot to thank Vanillathunder for her wonderful help these last few weeks in fighting against the writer's block. A huge thank you to you VT! ^^  
Second, Nightspark will NOT be updated today. I'm really really sorry you guys. I'm just having big problems with the chapter and Houston is not cooperating with me either. My internet went out last night and then my power got shut off today sooo...yeah.

Anyways, an extra bit of news, To Punish and Enslave's chapter is complete and will be up next week or the one after as I go through and iron it out so be on the lookout for an update soon. Broken Sparks as well is getting ready to make it's second chapter appearance but won't be out for at least another two weeks. I'm hoping Nightspark will be good to go next week.

For this chapter, I'm afraid it's not the greatest and I'm pretty sure I'll do a rewrite once my mind starts working again. So, forgive me if it's not that good. There isn't a whole lot of humor or really much of anything besides filler to get to the next part of the story. Again, I'm sorry it's not the greatest. Be sure to read the end notes for some news on my other stories.

Now, try to enjoy the best you can and review please. I'll take even criticism about just how horrible it was.

* * *

**Ironhide:**

"Slag it Ratchet, would you just stop already." Primus, the medic is really frying my nerves. He expects every one to listen to his orders but when First Aid tells him only light duties, he's already ignoring it the next hour.

"Frag off, Ironhide! You're not my creator," he responds, throwing the data pad in his hand at my head. Thankfully his aim isn't quiet right because of his injuries so I don't have to worry about ducking.

"Thank Primus for that! Only glitch heads would think of sparking you," I mutter at the end but the cranky CMO still hears me. Ouch! He didn't miss that time with the second flying data pad sent my way.

"You pit-slaggin aft-fraggin glitch-head!" he yells, grabbing for heavier items that will really hurt if he hits the target: me, "Don't you ever talk about my creators!"

I must have hit a sensitive issue. I've never seen him fall into a rage so quickly.

"Alright, alright! I'm sorry!" I yell in defense, having to duck down from the barrage of flying objects sent my way.

"Like I'm going to let your sorry aft off that easy! Come out here and face me like a mech!"

Psh. Like I'm that stupid to present an uncovered target to him. No way, I think I'm quiet cozy under this desk.

"Ratchet!" I hear First Aid bark, "Leave Ironhide alone and get out! I told you light duties, not attempt to kill the weapon specialist."

I can hear Ratchet muttering curses loudly but the makeshift weapons have stopped flying so I peek out slowly. It was an excellent scene to watch when First Aid told Ratchet he was beneath him till healed enough to reassume his tasks. Trust me, the look on the Hatchet's face was priceless as his CMO title was temporarily suspended and subjected to his pupil's instruction. Oh, Ratchet hasn't been taking it very well at all.

Optimus and First Aid have ordered me to keep with Ratchet and make sure he listens. I swear it's harder to tell Ratchet what to do than making an energon charged sparkling calm down. Why did I have to put up with this? No one else on the slaggin base is willing to help and pretty much finds excuses to get away. That leaves just the grumbling medic and me.

"I've been taking it light! Just categorizing data pads," Ratchet growled at First Aid, purposely forgetting to mention the other half of moving around the heavy crates full of the said data pads, "Nothing heavy."

"True, but you've been going at it too long. You need to rest more often and longer till I declare you medically fit to return to work. If you keep pushing my patience I will wait till you are completely healed," First Aid threatened, oblivious he was being lied to and already had enough to confine the medic to a bed for the rest of his recovery.

"You wouldn't" Ratchet gasped. Hee hee. He's never been on the opposite side of a medic's orders. Oh, Primus this is so great, I love you!

"Try me," the younger medic whispered dangerously.

Ratchet seemed to catch the seriousness of the situation he was putting himself into and stepped back.

"Fine, I was almost done anyways."

"As if," I snorted, "all that hard work has some how found its way to flying at my head and scattered around the med bay."

"Shut up, Ironhide," First Aid snapped before Ratchet could do it. Wow, the CMO has been training him well, it's almost like a mini Ratchet is speaking through First Aid's mouth, "Don't worry about it Ratchet, I'll pick them up. You can redo it tomorrow."

"Fine," was all Ratchet said before limping out of the med bay silently.

"Primus, Ironhide, do you always have to set him off?" First Aid sighed once the med bay's door closed.

"Me?" I yelped, "How is it my fault if the slagger has lost his processor?"

"Stop provoking him. All this is adding stress on him and could slow the healing process down," First Aid told him sternly.

"But?" I tried to defend yet the young medic cut me off before I could get started.

"No buts. Watch him _and_ keep him calm, or is that too difficult for you?"

Whoa, hold up. I'm the victim here! I had just been getting Ratchet to stop working hard when he flipped out, how is this my fault? Still, just like the stubborn CMO, my words won't affect First Aid.

"As if. That glitch can't get rid of me that easily," I respond instead. I don't think I'm really in the mood to see if his arsenal is the same as Ratchet, or if the aim is just as good.

"Well, thanks Ironhide, you're really a savior here being the only one willing to put up with him right now. I don't think even Optimus has the kind of patience to deal with him no matter how long they've known each other," First Aid said suddenly, his voice softening to the tone I knew so well. Geeze, I was afraid as temporary CMO his bedside manner was going to the pit too.

"It's easy," I said, waving it off like nothing, "Dealing with younglings all the time kind of prepares you for the biggest one yet. Besides, it's not like I have a choice. He is my bonded partner now."

"True. Nonetheless, I know _I_ really appreciate what you're doing."

Well slag, he's being genuinely nice, I guess I can give him a smile. What? My emotions are just that; mine. It's a prize to get me to smile. First Aid returns it back to me easily. Nice medic. Hard to see just how him and Ratchet actually work with each other without clashing.

"I should get going, make sure he's not going to start secretly giving black-market maintenance check ups," I joke. Just as I turn to leave my slaggin recharge alarm goes off.

"Primus," I sigh, it just won't give up. I get my fraggin recharge all the time and the pit damned alarm still keeps going off earlier than it should.

"Ironhide? Why is your alarm going off? Have you not been getting enough recharge lately?" First Aid asked, concerned now.

"No, I'm fine. I've been getting the usual amount of time, if not more," I tell him truthfully. The medic frowned.

"That's not a good sign. Let me check you out real quick."

"I really should go after Ratchet. Primus knows he looks for ways to disobey orders." I hate med bays. I don't try and stay longer than needed and hey what do you know, my time just expired. I slowly start shifting towards the door. No need to leave on a bad note.

"Ironhide," he warned, picking up the CMO's favorite wrench that he immediately took away from Ratchet once he was allowed to get up and move around. 'To eliminate the problem, I am eliminating the tools that cause it instead.' First Aid told him.

"I really doubt you have the expertise to use it properly," I tell him, taking another step towards my chance at freedom.

First Aid smirked, "You really think that after the vorns of Ratchet teaching me there might not have been at least _one_ time that he _might have_ given a few pointers in the 'taking care of the Ironhide problem'?"

"No, you're joking." He was joking right? Another step. Just a few more and I'd be home free.

"Want to put your theory to the test?" he asked quietly, the wrench just sitting in his palms harmlessly. No it was impossible. Ratchet wouldn't give _that_ kind of information away.

"There is no test. The Hatchet wouldn't give out his secrets," I said. Yes! One more step and good bye First Aid! But, what if he is telling the truth? Nah…?

First Aid chuckled; he still hadn't taken a proper grip on the dangerous item. See, I knew he was bluffing. Last step and FREEDOM!

_Many mechs and humans alike looked up in surprise at the sound of a very loud and heavy collision between two metallic objects echo throughout the base followed by the familiar roaring curse of Ironhide._

**Ratchet:**

Ha, that's music to my audio receptors. It seems Ironhide has learned that maybe not all my secrets are secrets any more. The slagger deserves a good knocking around from my protégé. I didn't pick First Aid for nothing. Of course, I wasn't expecting this to backfire on me either.

Today I find myself at First Aid's orders and actually having to obey them! I mean, I know I need to take it light; I am a medic after all. I just have a problem actually following orders. Following _any_ orders, now that I think about it. You know how much of a headache I was till Optimus finally caved and appointed me CMO? Then I was the one giving out the orders. I can even overrule Prime if the need arises. Oh, there's so much fun with this position. Mix it with my reputation and _you_ wonder why they call me The Hatchet.

Well, that sound was a clear signal to alert me I'm free from Ironhide for a little while longer so let's go see what I can do until then. Hanging in the rec room shouldn't be so bad. After all, I haven't seen a few of the mechs since before I was injured. Hmm, not many are here, just mostly humans and they are such a headache. Take that back, the new ones are. Will, Epps, and the original NEST members are cool with us, they know how to get out of our way. These new recruits run around in circles trying to get out of our path and usually end up right in front of it. On top of that, they hardly speak a word. Epps can chat up a storm with Ironhide and Prime when he gets the chance but the new guys just stare at us with their mouths hanging open. I mean what is it? Are my optics pink? Primus, what a headache. If you didn't know us you'd be surprised to hear that before we came to Earth, headaches didn't exist. Anyways, let's get off that subject.

Oh, look, there's Bee. The youngling always does a good job of cheering any one up, maybe I'll actually see if I can feel better after a quick chat.

"Hello Bumblebee."

He jerks up as if surprised, he must have been in deep thought for me to catch him off guard. I mean, he's a slaggin spy after all.

"Hey, Ratchet. What are you doing out here?" he asked once his frown disappeared. Something was defiantly bothering the youngling.

"First Aid kicked me off work for the moment so I've got nothing to do. Mind if I join you?"

"Sure, don't know what you would want to do though. I'm not really doing much myself right now," he sighed at the end.

"I can see that, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. So, I'm glad to see you're recovering well, even faster than predicted. That's good news."

I frown, just like him to leave me wondering just what was happening to him by changing the subject.

"It is unusual but I'm just glad it is happening."

Bumblebee nodded once before looking over at the other few mechs in the rec room who were all doing other meaningless tasks. He sighed again and looked back at me.

"Bumblebee, if you don't tell me what the pit is going on I'm going to weld your aft to my med bay floor till I get an answer once I get my tools back," I threatened. I hate it when the youngling leaves us in the dark. He always thinks to take upon every problem upon his shoulders without asking for help to prove himself to us.

Giving me an irritated looked, he replied with a stiff, "It's nothing."

"My aft, it's nothing. Tell me."

"Look Ratchet, I really appreciate you wanting to help but I'm fine. It's nothing," he said, fixing me with a hard stare that left no room for questions. Still, it wasn't good enough for me but sensing I wasn't giving up he threw up his hands and left quickly.

"Fraggin younglings think they can get away with this while I'm not CMO right now," I grumble, and it's true. They're all going to push my buttons until First Aid declares me medically fit for duty, and once I do get back to work, they're gonna wish they hadn't tested me.

"Ratchet!" Wheeljack called, ducking into the room.

"Over here," I called, raising my hand so the inventor could locate me. I'm surprised; we haven't spoken since Ironhide became my bonded. Slag it all now that I realized Wheeljack was always hoping it would be him and me together instead of the current situation.

"Come on, First Aid needs yah back at Medical," he said, waving me over.

"What is it now?" I groaned. Was it possible he learned about me moving those crates around? I flinch, that means I could be stuck on bed rest till fully recovered!

"It's not good. Come on."

We walked down the hallway silently, well I'm limping, and Wheeljack is the one walking normally.

"Wait, Wheeljack, before we go in," I told him, stopping him at the med bay door, "I wanted to say something."

He shifted uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry. I know how it seemed that you and me would have had a future together. I didn't plan this and I think that maybe we would have worked out quiet well as a couple."

Wheeljack looked as if I had just suddenly punched him.

"Ratch, look, I'm not mad. I was hurt at first but I know what happened was something that had to happen. I've accepted it. It does hurt but we never really got into it so I think I've been spared the worst part and after all, you two accepted each other so obviously it was you two who were suppose to be together."

"But you've been so distant."

Wheeljack ducked his head in shame.

"I know. I'm the one that should be sorry. I've only just recently accepted this so I was avoiding you cause I didn't want to confront you on the issue. I hope we can still work together."

I nod. Good, I still get to keep a friend around.

"Besides, I think you're lucky to get Ironhide. To imagine having someone so tough and dedicated, to be the one who would lay down his life for yours in a spark beat. Kind of romantic like those holo-vids Acree watches."

I guess he's got a point. I do kind of admire the way Ironhide has been protective of me lately. It was particularly funny when he blasted both twins in the aft when they refused to leave me be for just one breem.

"Anyways, are you ready to go in now?" Wheeljack asked.

"Yes, what's going on?"

"It's about Ironhide, come on."

Ironhide? What's going on with him when I'm the one recovering?

Walking in behind Wheeljack I immediately begin scanning around the med bay looking for my bonded and find him on a bed of all places. Why is he laying down with First Aid fussing over him?

"First Aid, what going on?" I look over at the monitors attached to the wall reporting out Ironhide's specs to anyone that knows how to read them.

"I don't know," he answered truthfully as I gasp.

"What? Why is Ironhide's spark energy functioning at eighty two percent?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out and why I had Wheeljack bring you in here to see if maybe you know."

I look down to see Ironhide looking up at me with tired optics. Now that I've finally stopped and looked at him, the weapon specialist really looks the worst for wear. I can tell he's completely exhausted and it hasn't been recently, this has been something that's been going on for a while. Why the slag didn't I pay attention?

"Hey, what's going on?" I asked gently. He looks at me in surprise and I'm kind of surprised myself. I don't talk to anyone in my med bay like that.

"What can I say? I'm fine, First Aid's just freaking out," he grumbled, shrugging. Leave it to the stubborn mech to brush anything serious off.

"Slag it, Ironhide. This is serious."

"His systems have been indicating that he isn't getting enough recharge but he swears he's been getting more than usual."

I frown, what the slag is going on? I haven't heard of this coming out of nowhere.

Ironhide shrugged again.

"Primus, you always act when it gets at it's worst don't you?" I growl at him and flinch as the monitor beeps as the energy level drops to eighty one percent. At seventy percent he'll fall into stasis.

"Has his energy fallen recently?"

First Aid gave me a hesitant look.

"Well?"

The young medic sighed and nodded, "He…he was a eighty five at the time you left."

"WHAT?" That's impossible. Why is his spark energy falling so quickly? This is a serious problem if I don't figure out what is going on. At this rate he'll be at fifty percent by the end of the day.

"Primus," First Aid groaned at the monitor beeped again alerting of another drop.

"What the slag, Ironhide, what have you done recently?"

"Nothing, I swear. I've just been with you all the time since we've gotten back on base."

"When did your alarm start going off?"

"About an orn ago."

"An orn? Primus, you glitch head, why didn't you tell First Aid then?"

"I just thought it was my systems acting up like they always do," he tried to defend.

"And does your recharge alarm usually act up?" I asked.

He looked at me sheepishly, "Well…no."

I have to really resist the urge to smack him on the head. What an idiot. Leave it to Ironhide to never take any real problem seriously. I still remember the one time he had internal damage after a fight and I didn't learn of it till he had collapsed in the hall one day after sparring practice.

"So what now?" First Aid asked and I look over and see Wheeljack is expected some miraculous answer. Slag it, why does everyone think I know everything?

"I don't know. I guess we'll have to go over the archives while we monitor him closely."

"What?" First Aid asked in shock. I've never had to go over the archives before to find an answer.

"Look, I've never seen this before. Give me a break, I'm not a miracle worker!"

"But…you are!" Wheeljack sputtered.

Really? All this time and everyone thinks I'm some great amazing medic? What energon have they been drinking?

"Look, just shut up and get to work. First Aid, will you please reinstall my rank so I can access the more sensitive files?" Well there is one good point to this; I'm back in action.

"Sure. I'll call Optimus and let him know what's going on," he said going over to a nearby terminal and punching in the required sequence to reactivate my title.

"Great, I don't even get one day away from the Hatchet," Ironhide muttered.

"Careful or you might have to learn what the humans call sign language after I weld your dental plates together."

The grumbling stopped but I could still see the determined look in his optics to not make this an easy journey. Ah, Ironhide at his finest. Wouldn't be the usual day in the med bay without my favorite pain in the aft.

"Wheeljack, do me a favor and put in the medical code for exiting the med bay please." Just to cover all my bases so Ironhide can't try and sneak away while we're working. The mech seems to know the truth behind the order and glares at me.

"No escape today. Not until I know what's going on with you."

"My only problem is you right now. Just let me go, I'm fine," he protested, sitting up to climb out and most likely dart out to freedom.

"Oh no you don't. Get back in bed! I will not hesitate to use restraints."

Ironhide froze at that threat, most likely because I had carried it out before. Fighting down a chuckle at his horrified expression, I push him back into the bed and turn around to join Wheeljack at a free terminal to begin searching for some answer as to what was doing this to my bonded. Looking over my shoulder to make sure Ironhide was staying put, I could only sigh as I saw he was in recharge.

"That's not good is it?" Wheeljack asked.

"No, but I'll be damned if I'm gonna let this one get past me."

Wheeljack stares at me for a moment before nodding and resuming his work.

"I guess it's a good thing he has you," he said a few minutes later.

"Fraggin right it is and I'm going to make sure that he damn well knows it. I'm not stopping until I find an answer or Primus takes me and I join him in the matrix."

* * *

Thanks for reading; I hope it wasn't too dreadful.

Now, a little extra info. For those who are following my other stories, I'm letting it be known that Broken Sparks will be continuing into a short story as well. On top of that, don't forget to keep an eye out on my newest creation To Punish and Enslave. It's not a cheery fic to so beware the warnings and let me know what you think about it.

Please, leave any sort of reviews; I'll gladly appreciate anything.


	5. Problem Detected, Problem Solved

Alright my readers...here's chapter 5! I know...I'm surprised too that it came out so soon. ^^

Again, another BIG thank you out to VanillaT! Can't do this without cha! You're a life saver! And I don't just mean like the candy. ;P

Anyways...enjoy this one you guys. I'm hoping it's better than the last chapter...which wasn't the greatest...

Also, Nightspark, Broken Sparks, and To Punish and Enslave all have up coming chapters. Be on the look out of a very soon update for Nightspark, either tonight or tomorrow. Broken Sparks will be close behind or next week along with To Punish and Enslave. Now, go forth and read!

**_Transformers Information_**

Vorn- 83 years  
Orn- 13 days  
Joor- 8 hours  
Breem- 6 minutes  
Astrosecond- 5/6 seconds  
Klick- 1 millisecond  
_(I don't know if those are accurate measurements but that's I've always gone by so it's what I'm using.)_

"Normal speak"  
_"Comm speak"  
_**_"Private comm speak"  
::Bonded speak::_**

* * *

**Ratchet:**

Slag it!" I can't sit here and look for something that just isn't there. I've gone over file after file to the point where they've all blended into one long medical report. First Aid gives me a concerned glance as I stand up and lean against the table, but a glance over at Wheeljack tells me the mech is completely absorbed in his task. Nothing different there.

"I'm going to go check on Ironhide," I tell my pupil who is still watching me warily. Can't blame him, my leg is really killing me from sitting for so long and, slag it, I'm tired. No doubt I look like I belong in a bed, leaning on one leg and optics half open.

He nods reluctantly. With my CMO status reinstated he can't really tell me what to do anymore, and I'm sure he's debating with himself about it being a good decision to allow me back to work despite the situation. "Let me know if you need another dose of painkillers."

"I'm fine," I answer, waving him off before limping over to my partner's berth tucked just out sight. I let out a relieved sigh when I see his monitors. He's been holding at 47% for the last joor. It's not a good thing but compared to last night, it's a blessing. All through the night First Aid and I were on full alert as his energy plummeted so quickly I feared I was watching him die right in front of my optics. Never again, I don't ever again want to experience that.

"Primus, you're really a handful aren't you? Why did you have to go and fraggin save me you glitch? Now you've got me worried about you. Slag it Ironhide, why didn't you say something sooner?"

With a groan I drop myself into the chair pressed flush up against the berth. Almost like it was second nature, I allowed my hand to lie upon his chest lightly as I watch his monitors though they hadn't changed recently.

For about a breem I watch the consistent readings before looking at Ironhide's face. I can't believe this is actually happening. First, I'm bonded and of all mechs, to Ironhide!

The stubborn mech has always been a fraggin pain of my aft since he came into my life all those vorns ago. However, it seems I've seen him in a different light recently. He was protective around me during my first days of recovery. Once he even chased the terrorizing twins off when I was too tired to snap back at them. Quite the loyal mech and I actually kind of liked having someone stand up for me and do what I was too exhausted to carry out. I should have noticed then. The next week he didn't respond to taunts as often or he wouldn't carry out his threats. What should have set off the alarms was when he hadn't even reacted when Samuel called him by his dreaded name 'Hide. How could I be so blind?

I should have realized it immediately. All the signs were there, I was just too stupid to pay attention. I was healing, remarkably fast. It was almost unheard of but there had been similar cases when sparkbonding sped up the healing process if one of the partners was uninjured. Still, I should have checked into if further. Then I got stronger and Ironhide started disappearing. He claimed he was just getting in extra recharge or spending his down time in his room. That was another thing that changed. First Aid had been letting him stay in the med bay so he was close by but when he started going absent for long periods of time, he conveniently moved back to his room.

There were other signs. He moved slower and his systems seemed to be working slightly harder than usual. A few times he even went as far as to give me small complaints about lingering pains and not getting enough rest.

Slag it, why didn't I listen!

Now here we are, in the med bay. He's moment away from death and I'm racking my processor for an answer. First Aid use to say there's a first time for everything but, Primus, why does it always have to happen with me?

_BEEP_

What was that? I jump up in my seat. Immediately my training tells me to look at the monitors. The results suddenly have a strangled cry escaping my mouth.

"Ratchet! What is it? What's wrong?" First Aid yells, rushing over with Wheeljack on his heels.

I can't answer and just drop my head into my hands. Primus it's not fair. I'm trying, slag it, I'm trying! I just need a little more time!

_BEEP_

"Oh Primus, his energy is dropping again," Wheeljack sighed.

I don't need to look up to know what they're doing. I know them too well. First Aid is probably giving me a sad look and Wheeljack is more than likely staring at the monitor trying to think of what it is we're missing. Groaning I finally look back up at them. First Aid is too now looking at the monitors and Wheeljack has vanished. How could I have not noticed he left?

"What?" I asked but my voice is soft and First Aid whips his head around to look at me. I see alarm in his face.

"Ratchet! Oh Primus, this is getting to you too. You fell offline for a few klicks, and his energy has dropped to forty-three percent! It's affecting you now. His spark is latching out to yours for energy."

I gasp. That's it! That's what's been going on all this time. How could I have not noticed it earlier?

"First Aid." It's a struggle to talk now. His energy is dropping rapidly and soon I'll be falling into recharge. "I know what's happening."

"Perfect timing," Wheeljack says sarcastically, coming back over with something in his hands I can't focus on.

"Shut up! Look…" Oh slag, my energy is draining too fast. I'll fall into recharge before I can even finish explaining it to them.

"Ratchet!" First Aid yells and I barely manage to online my optics too see that he was kneeling in front of me, "Stay with us. What is it? What do we need to do?"

A quick look at him and Wheeljack show that they're really concerned. Can't blame him. With me going out then we'll die. I'm the only with the cure. Got to make this short.

"M…merging…"

They both look extremely confused.

"We…m…merge….help…help…bal….." and this time my optics offline themselves and I feel myself falling forward but one of them catches me.

"Bal?" I hear First Aid ask.

"Balance! He means they need to merge to balance their sparks!" Wheeljack exclaimed.

"What? He can hardly keep online let alone merge."

"So we make them merge! Not like we don't have the equipment. Come on. You get Ratchet ready while I do Ironhide."

I'm slowly falling towards recharge, or worse, immediate stasis as I can hardly feel First Aid opening my chest and exposing my spark. The rest is pretty much a blur. I have no idea how they get me up on the bed and suddenly there it is. Ironhide's presence suddenly flares into existence and we haven't even touched our sparks.

My intakes become erratic as my spark crawls out toward Ironhide's. It's calling to me so strongly, begging for my strength and warmth. I cannot believe just how slaggin good this feels. It's incredible until fatigue crashes over me, causing me to completely go limp against Ironhide's still frame. Slag, Ironhide was really dealing with a lot here. Primus, how did he hold on so long? One tough fragger, that's for sure. The flow between us begins to lessen but the exhaustion is still evident and I can feel his spark holding on to mine, almost begging to me to give what it gave back. I can't refuse; it's impossible. After a while I know it's too much and with the little strength I do have left I pull our sparks apart. Wow, I can still feel just how tired he is even though where not connect now. I think that our two-way connection is finally completed and that step is at least done now. I can feel what he feels in real time unlike before when it was distant and mostly only physical pain while he already had his side established in the initial merging.

**Ironhide:**

It's a strange feeling to feel yourself falling towards the matrix and linger towards death all the while feeling only your partner's presence. I was oblivious to what was happening to my frame or me, but I could feel Ratchet. It seemed the bond heightened its sensitivity while I was in stasis. Mostly I felt Ratchet was frustrated and tired but there were definite times I could feel his concern leak through. Those were the feelings I held anchor to as best I could and I stayed there, hanging halfway out of the matrix, halfway out of life until my grip began to loosen and I was suddenly falling back and the matrix was consuming me. So close, so close. I'll never forget. I heard whispers in my receptors, whispers of a promise and a future for my end but something happened. Ratchet's presence flared up around me, beating the whispers back and pulling me towards it. It was like being dipped into a flaming lake that held freezing temperatures as Ratchet consumed me, became me.

Of course, now I know what was really happening. Ratchet had merged our sparks together and effectively ended my dramatic downhill fall towards permanent deactivation. Not that I'm grateful but I'll say I've got a definite curiosity as to just what it is that awaits after our end, and no matter how hard I try, I can't remember what those whispers spoke of, the words they said. There was a voice, a voice so vivid it brought up memories of a face I knew but could not see. Who was that? Who on the other side was waiting for me?

I woke before Ratchet, two orns after my partner saved my life, and was instead met by another medic, First Aid. He explained it pretty well telling me the basics of what happened and what was going to happen next. He also told me Ratchet might take slightly longer to wake up since he was both still healing and had basically given me near over half his own energy to stabilize my spark.

I'm touched, truly. I've never seen or known of Ratchet's soft side. Others have told me he's got one that rarely comes to play but I've never gotten such. Instead I tend to leave with more dents than arriving with.

An orn after waking up and I'm ready to get the slag out of here but Ratchet still hasn't come online and I'm still fraggin tired. First Aid said it was an extremely close call and they were klicks away from preparing our rights. I couldn't squeeze it out of First Aid but Wheeljack was more than willing to oblige and let me know just how low my energy was before they saved me. Twenty-seven percent. Twenty-seven! Isn't that just strange? Wheeljack said the lowest ever recorded before spark extinction was twenty three percent. At the rate I was falling, First Aid hadn't been exaggerating. Klicks, klicks away from death and I would know just what those whispers were saying.

"Oh Primus," I hear a groan from Ratchet's direction and prop up on one elbow to look over. Yep it's him. He's finally up.

"Hey there."

"What? Ironhide? What the slag?"

Not too bright coming out of recharge is he? Well, I'll give him some credit. He's only functioning at a seventy-seven percent level. Most of us move around like trash heaps when we're at eighty-five percent.

"You saved my life, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. Don't remind me," he groaned and sank further into the bed. Primus, he doesn't look to good. First Aid already alerted me that his healing as all but paused because of this and won't kick back up till he's at least eighty which is slow in coming since our energy climbing rate is sluggish and irregular. Even after Ratchet's heroic action I'm at seventy-three.

"So, does that mean you regret it?" I tease.

"What? No. I'm just. Slag it Ironhide, don't mess with me. Uh, I ache all over." He's not lying. I can feel it echoing through our bond making my own joints hurt in sympathy.

"Well I guess a thank you is in order."

"Are you that stupid?" he asked, finally looking at me since coming online.

"Excuse me?" After all this the glitch is going to start insulting me? Come on!

"You heard me you lug nuts for a processor. Are you that fraggin stupid?" Well, at least his shining personality is still intact. I wouldn't want that ruined would I? Make sure you add the sarcasm in there in case you didn't recognize it.

"That's more than I could say for you, fraggin pit spawned slag heap."

"Don't get me started. If I could get out of this berth I would tear you a new exhaust port and reverse the recoil springs in your cannons!" Ouch, that's a low blow. He's done it before too. Kind of hard to tell if you hit your target when you go flying back wards the split second after shooting and slam into whatever obstacles that are unlucky enough to be in your way. Those obstacles usually end up being other mechs that end up accompanying me to the med bay where I get to hear Ratchet rant and rave about this being my fault and that if I wasn't so trigger happy and stubborn he wouldn't have done it in the first place.

"I'm glad to see that you two are doing well," First Aid smirked as he entered. We both just scowled at him for interrupting our verbal battle.

"Oh don't mind me. I'm just doing a few check ups. Giving Ratchet some pain meds. Then I'll check the stability of your bond and be gone." Why can't Ratchet ever be that simple? It's usually a curse after every other word and an insult in between each pause for breath. First Aid just took a thirty sentences speech Ratchet would have given and condensed it down to only four.

"Oh and Ratchet, now that Ironhide is fine and you're back on bed rest, your CMO title has been, once again, temporarily suspended." First Aid said as soon as he finished.

"WHAT!" The sudden emotion from Ratchet produces a growl out of me before I even have a chance to suppress it and First Aid gives me an amused look.

"Well, it seems you two are coming along nicely. Now, I need to go attend to Bumblebee," he said and darted for the door.

"Bumblebee, what is he doing here?" I thought he had been discharged.

"Oh, it's nothing to worry about Ironhide," First Aid said and hesitated for a moment before leaving.

"He's lying," Ratchet said and I nod. That's one thing I'm glad about. That scrawny medic can't tell even Prime the smallest lie. And trust me, Optimus is a fool to trust everything everyone tells him.

"Would Bee need another surgery?" I asked Ratchet. I'm always desperate for information on my charge. Especially if I have no idea what is going on. I'm right here and he's only feet away out side my door but I can't do anything.

"Ironhide, calm down." And I feel comfort flowing through the bond. It eases some of the distress but it's not quiet enough. Bumblebee is my youngling, how dare First Aid keep something from me!

"Ironhide, look at me."

"What!"

"Stay calm. What ever it is, First Aid will have it under control or he might not have been so quick to strip my status." Doesn't help me any. I need to see Bumblebee, make sure he's alright.

Ratchet doesn't even make a sound when I force myself up out of the bed.

"Please be careful," is all he says as I stumble to the door and wrench it open. I'm too worried to register the concern in his voice and through our bond. I'm too focused on finding out what's going on.

Dragging myself out of the room I see First Aid as soon as he ducks into an emergency trauma room. It's a long walk but I think I'll be fine. After all, I'm not the one hurt. The first step without support was a bit unsettling. I guess I'm feeling Ratchet's pain a little to well as my own leg isn't cooperating to good and I've got to limp across the room. Still, it's manageable and eventually I get right outside and peek my head around the side.

What the slag! I've been out for how long and Bee has been in another fight!

"What the slag happened?"

First Aid jumped and whirled around in shock.

"Ironhide! Get back in bed!"

"No! You lied to me. What is going on with Bee? I'm not leaving till I get an answer!"

"I'm fine, really," he told me, giving me a pained smile.

"Primus, what did you get yourself into this time Bee?"

"Barricade. He said he would come back for Acree. She left the base on her own for a simple drive. I was with Prowl, meditating. I know you don't believe it, but my scanner intensity improves and I picked up Barricade nearing her. I took off not even telling Prowl what happened till I was already outside the base. He couldn't keep up and I got there first. Acree was already knocked out and Barricade was bent over her doing something but my presence surprised him. We fought and eventually Prowl showed up and he ran. Course, this time he had extra equipment with him."

No lie there. Some of these wounds have been cause by the legendary pronged whip. It's Barricade's specialty weapon but he rarely uses it for some reason. Prowl recons he knows why but has yet to enlighten us on that little topic.

"Are you sure you're alright?" He looks worse than the first encounter.

"Yeah, I was a little off my game with my pervious injuries making me move slower but Prowl was only a few minutes behind so no problem there." Primus, how did I get stuck with this youngling? He's got way too much spirit for his own good. Nothing but a bundle of joy and energy when he was a sparkling that brought light to us all during the war.

"Look Ironhide, he'll be fine but not if you keep standing here blocking my attempt to fix him up. Now, get back to your berth and let me go to work! Ratchet taught me more than wrench welding as a tool to keep you in your place!" Oh slag. Let's not try that out again.

"I'm going. I'm going!"

I feel his glare on my all the way back to the room until I close and door and I swear I can feel it burrowing through that till I get back into the berth and Ratchet tells me how to hook the little wires back onto my frame. Slag, that little adventure has drained my systems already and looking over tells me that Ratchet has already fallen into recharge. I've got nothing better to do. Bumblebee will be fine and all is well with Ratchet for the moment. I guess it's safe for me to offline my optics finally.

* * *

I hope this was good. Please, Please, Please leave reviews. I'll love you guys so much more...not that I already dont...XD


	6. Ignore This

Don't worry about this page. Just click the button and move on!


	7. Ironhide's POV

Alright, something is seriously trying to mess with me .  
I tried uploading the new chapter but it wouldn't let me! So, I finally realized maybe I could figure out a loop hole and I did...I just took one of my other already uploaded files and just copied and pasted it over what was there originally. Yeah, that sucks, but at least it gets the job done. ANYWAYS!

1st thing, as always...A BIG HUGE THANK YOU goes out to VT.  
2nd thing and just as important...more thank yous to all my readers! ^^ I feel so loved! *cough* I mean, that's for the support. I got so many messages for ideas that it was like bunny bait and they came flying in! Some of you guys will see them coming later on in the story or already in play.  
3rd...if I haven't already told ya'll, or even if I did...me and VT (Vanillathunder215) have come together and are working on a story! YAY! Granted it's not up yet, but I think we might get to it eventually when the bunnies stop biting.  
4th thing isn't the best of news...for the last 5 chapters I have posted two points of view...one Ironhide, the other Ratchet...unfortnately, the bunnies bit hard, but Ratchet isn't ready yet and might take another week or two to pop out. So I hope you guys are alright with half a chapter until then. I just know I haven't updated in a while for any of my stories and I'm sorry. DX

So then, do read and tell me what you think!

* * *

**Ironhide:**

"Ironhide, it's late. Why are you still here?" Wheeljack asked, entering the weapon's room, "and how many of those have you had?"

I looked down at the dozens of empty high grade energon cubes and merely grunted. Honestly I had lost count and I wasn't in the mood to talk let alone get chastised over my actions. Slag it, I did whatever the frag I wanted...until recently that is.

Wheeljack narrowed his optics and put his hands on his hips. Primus, here it comes. I am so not in the mood for this AGAIN! What is it with medics and the "responsibility" speeches? Granted, Wheeljack wasn't actually a medic, but he had hung around and learned enough from Ratchet for me to file him in the same category. Just as he opened his mouth to begin the tirade, I waved my hand in the air to stop him.

"Look, I've heard this ten times," Seriously ten times in just the last orn, six times from Ratchet, three times from First Aid, and of course, once from Prime, "Just leave me alone already," interesting. You would think after a few dozen cubes my speech would have gone to slag.

"Apparently you need to hear it ten times more. Slag it Ironhide, this is no way to deal with this. You need to talk with Ratchet."

"And get my aft attached to the ceiling or my processor wiped? Yeah right. There's no slaggin way I'm going back to the pit he calls a med bay. He's the fraggin spawn of Unicron right now. ANY Autobot with a two-bit processor would know to stay away, far away."

"And ANY sparkmate would be smart enough to see that he really needs help. Don't waste what you have," Wheeljack argued back. I had to pause for a moment; I heard actual concern and something else hidden underneath.

"I'm not wasting anything but recharge time...which is the point," I said, shrugging and throwing back another cube with ease. That seemed to be some breaking point within Wheeljack as he stormed over and leaned down so he was right in my face.

"You don't know, do you!" he snarled, and I jerked back. Never had I thought the mech would, or could, get hostile and there was a dangerous glint in his eye that told me I better listen closely least I be the center of his next unstable experiment.

"You don't know," he repeated, "that what you have with Ratchet is amazing, wonderful, a rare gift! He's more than just a medic and you know it, you've SEEN it!"

Oh slag, I never really paid attention to rumors, but now it was obvious that sometimes harmless chat was actually proving to be quite accurate. Wheeljack really did have his sights set upon Ratchet and I had ruined that picture-perfect future for him. No wonder he was mad; no wonder he was watching every single screw up I did closely. Slag.

"And yet here you are, getting over energized off high grade while he's having to deal with this ALONE! Right now, he doesn't deserve you, at all. You're just proving to be the huge aft head that everyone says you are." Wait, everyone says that? "This...this miracle that has happened isn't an easy road Ironhide, you need to be there with him. You need to help him. So frag it, mech up and deal!"

The silence was deafening after he finished and pulled back up to glared at me, waiting for some sort of reaction. I was shocked. Ratchet was one thing, but getting a harsh lecture in the responsibilities of life from somebot like Wheeljack, well, it was quite disorientating. It takes a moment to recover from something like that. And then it happened, the stupidest thing I had ever done in my life. Alright, not the stupidest, but it was pretty slaggin close.

I laughed. Actually, I burst out laughing my aft off and Wheeljack stepped back in surprise. It wasn't a reaction he expected, and well, neither did I.

"I can't believe this," I finally said, calming down a moment later, "I'm getting lectured at from you, of all mechs, and you are actually the first one who's managed to make a serious point."

"Oh."

Smirking I stood up and clapped him on the shoulder. It was something most soldiers could take but he was a scientist and his knees buckled slightly at the strength of the blow yet he remained silent otherwise, "You know, keep it up 'Jack and I just might end up liking you after all."

Wheeljack gave me a sheepish grin, already falling back into the mech I knew before the big blowout mere klicks ago.

"Well, it's time I go kiss and make up huh?"

"Something like that," he said, grin spreading into a small smile.

I made a move to leave then stopped. Frag, I forgot I still had a few dozen empty cubes to clean up. Wheeljack noticed my hesitation and the source, "Go on, I'll clean up. The sooner you go to him and talk it over, the better. This is nothing I can't handle."

"Thanks 'Jack. I owe ya."

"Yeah yeah, I'll collect later," he said, waving me off and I turned to leave just as he added, "and Ironhide."

"Hmm?"

"Congratulations on the sparkling."

* * *

Now...I sure SOME of yall saw THAT coming. ^^

But seriously...reviews...I NEED THEM! If you hold back, I might just have to hold Ratchet's pov hostage! *waves file in air* DON'T TEMPT ME!


	8. Ratchet's POV

FINALLY! Here it is! The next chapter of Incompatible! *collapses* sorry, but dear Primus that was hard to write. Now I know I've been posting two POVs at the same time except for the last chapter and now this one, but I am going to try and get back into that by the next chapter.  
Anywho...needless to say this chapter took A LOT out of me. And I'm really sorry, work, life, and more is just crazy and I'm still trying to work in the perfect time to actually write anything at all. I usually get in about a few sentences every other day! Now this chapter is a little trip down memory lane for those who were caught off guard by the last chapter. Didn't think I would leave out those important details did ya'll? XP

Anyways, do enjoy and please review...makes me feel all warm and fuzzy and it solidifies what VT says about my writings...thanks again hun! You're the best help a friend could ask for. And a great proof reader!

* * *

**Ratchet:**

It's been three orns since I found out I was carrying. I'll tell you, it was definitely a shock. Yes, I'm a medic, I know these things can happen the "first" time but I didn't expect it. Heck, I didn't even expect the actual PROCESS to happen. Fraggin Ironhide. Leave it to the moronic slagger to get me "knocked-up" as the humans put it without any consequences to himself. Actually, I shouldn't be mad, it's because of him I'm doing better than I was. He knew something was off, that I was avoiding getting it checked out while there was work to be done. Still, his insistence to keep me from working too hard and to make me rest was really fraying my wires and I'm afraid it pushed me past my breaking point which has seemed to weaken recently. Ever since I snapped at him…alright, I admit it; it was a bit worse than snapping but frag you control your emotions while carrying. It's harder than keeping the twins from pulling a prank and trust me that's all but impossible. Ever since then I haven't seen or hear a word from him. Even our bond is closed. A part of me, a part deep down is begging for that contact to come back but another part of me relishes the freedom it has brought, yet it's leaving me a confused mess.

What am I suppose to do? I'm carrying a sparkling, and to make it all better, I'm carrying _during _a slaggin war! It's enough to make any sane mech completely freak out, but I don't want to deal with this, I CAN'T. Not alone. I need Ironhide but I don't want him near me right now. FRAG! How can one be so conflicted? Is it even possible to be so screwed up? Great, this is entirely my fault. I've gone and sparked, I forced my partner away from me, and I'm still up to my neck in injured mechs. It's…it's just not fair! Primus why me? Wouldn't the sparkling do better with some other mech, some mech better suited to sire a sparkling? Given my past, I'm probably the worst mech for the job. I want to give the sparkling the best it can have, the very best it deserves and I'm not it.

"Ratchet?" First Aid called to me, breaking me from my internal conflict, "are you alright? Do you need to rest?"

"I'm fine. I'm just…I…" frag, I don't know what I am.

"Hey, it'll be okay," he said, sitting down beside me and wrapping one arm around my shoulders in a supportive but thankfully non-suffocating hug, "you'll be fine, you, the sparkling, and Ironhide will make it through this. All three of you."

"Thanks, but that's not what's bothering me," slag I don't want to say it but I need to, I know I need to, "I just…I need Ironhide. Frag he hates me right now. What am I going to do?"

"Come on Ratchet, don't say that. I know that softy isn't capable of even thinking about hating you. I do, however, think he's confused as well and doesn't know what to do right now. Give him time, he's too stubborn to leave you alone for long."

"That's the truth," I snorted, remembering that's exactly how this all started in the first place.

_A few orns ago…_

I sighed and stretched as my recharge program ended. It was the third day after being fully discharged and reinstated as CMO. Things were falling back into routine pretty quickly. Looking around, I realized just how much I admired my room. Slag, after spending so much time confined to a bed in the med-bay who wouldn't love the sight of their room, no matter how basic and mediocre it was. I guess this experience could actually leave me feeling a bit more sympathetic to my patients when they express their urgent need to leave my med-bay. Let me think about that for a moment…nope! No sympathy. They can stop their bawling, grow a pair, and learn to deal. It's simple really, my med-bay, my rules: end of discussion. Don't like it, too bad.

By the next day I was more than ready to give my rank back to First Aid. Fraggin Decepticons decided to give us a sweet surprise that landed my medbay full with injured soldiers. I had at least seven critical, twice that many with slightly severe to moderate injuries, and the ones that could live another orn without threat I had to send to Preceptor and Wheeljack for minor repairs. I was too slaggin busy saving lives than to worry about a few split wires. Trust me, I hate turning away any and all patients no matter what ails them but I didn't have a choice. First Aid, Hoist, and myself were in over our heads with energon each of us having to work surgeries side by side yet separately without the usual supervision of me watching of First Aid, or First Aid over Hoist. I had to trust in Primus and them that I had taught what they needed to know.

The following days after that were a living nightmare and it was a true miracle none were lost. By the second orn of working straight through, no breaks, Hoist caved and I allowed First Aid to move him to my room connected to the medbay for needed rest. Surprisingly, First Aid managed to hold on for another orn and a half before I knocked him into recharge myself. Now I know what you're thinking, I still have gotten any rest myself but fraggit, my patients needed me and I didn't need it. I've been trained to go orns without recharge. Still, that didn't stop Ironhide from pestering me. Primus that mech never let up. Every day coming in and trying all he could to get me to recharge yet I wouldn't listen. Why should I? I'm fraggin CMO, not him. I know MY limits; he doesn't need to tell ME what to do.

I should have remembered just how stubborn he was, how hard it was to ever change his mind or actions once he made his decision. Naturally I did forget and it bit me in the aft on the fourth orn as I turned around to leave my room and get back to work and found myself blocked off by none other than my insistent bondmate.

"Ratchet, stop," he said with an almost gentle tone in his voice.

"Frag off Ironhide, I'm busy. Go blow up the firing range again or whatever the slag it is you do for fun," I growled at him waiting for his aft to get out of my way.

"No."

What the slag has gotten into him? Frag, he must really want a wrench up the aft being this stupidly stubborn.

"Ironhide, do not make me repeat myself or you'll find your routine scans scheduled more frequently and certainly more thorough," he flinched but still stood there, arms crossed, and with that slaggin stubborn look on his face. Is there ANY way to get this lug nut out of my way?

"Look, Ratchet, you're working too hard. First Aid can take care of everyone for a few joors so you can get some rest. Primus, if you're not in the med-bay, you're running around elsewhere. When's the last time you recharged? You need a break; you need to relax. One mech can only take so much."

"You're trying my patience," he really was. This is the one mech in the whole slaggin universe that can wear me down to the wire and he ends up being my protective bondmate: just my luck. I guess since words aren't working, I could always push my way past him. Gauging the space between his frame and the door, I surmised it was possible.

"Fine," I snapped, "I'll rest."

His optics narrowed and looked me up and down slowly, I have to admit, Ironhide isn't a dim mech. He definitely knew something was up, that I certainly hadn't give up that easily, and voiced his suspicions, "I don't buy it."

"Because you're a paranoid glitching fragger, I'm giving in. Happy? Now I'll go recharge," I told him, stepping back just slightly. Still he hadn't moved. Frag; plan A out the window, as the humans say. Hmm, just what will work?

"Stop it Ratchet. I know you're thinking of a million and one ways of getting past me but none of it is going to work. I'm not leaving until you recharge and even then I'm tempted to stay and make sure you get a decent amount of rest."

This cannot be happening. I have patients that need help, MY help and he's talking about ME needing rest. Slag it, I. Don't. Need. To. Rest!

"Yes you do," he responded. Great, now I'm sending my frustration through the bond. With that open, he'll know EVERY idea I have and how to prevent it. Frag, what now?

"Primus Ratchet, just give it up will you. You're giving me a processor ache with the thousands scenarios you can think of at once. I can't take it like you; you're gonna make me glitch. Just what is it that'll make you give up?" he asked, studying me.

I rolled my optics in response as he gazed at me yet before I could say anything a strange sensation flirted through our bond trying to give me a warning but it wasn't soon enough as, suddenly, I found myself pinned between his strong chassis and the wall, a confident mouth working against my own without hesitation. Now any normal reaction would be to get the idiotic fragger off of me, right? Well tell that to my traitor of a processor as a huge part of me actually resisted the thought of pushing him away and instead pulled closer. Despite how hard I tugged at Ironhide it just wasn't enough as my chest was all but crushed against his causing my spark to flare excitedly due to the proximity.

Moments later a new sensation flared to life as Ironhide tugged my hands into his own and gently worked over the hypersensitive sensors in them, tracing over my palm slowly before moving to concentrate on each digit personally for a moment before repeating. Primus I couldn't do it; I lost all control. His touch drove me wild and it took all the concentration I had left in not screaming as every fiber of my being was stimulated by his ministrations on my hands and in turn left me leaning against the wall for support, a writhing mess. Now I know what you're thinking, how is it that I'm so easily reduced to a pile of shaking bolts when I've been with my own fair share of mechs before Ironhide came around? This trigger-happy moron is far from being my first berth partner, but he IS one of only two mechs to have ever given a thought in seeking out my true "hot" spots or to touch them so…so…so PERFECTLY.

"Primus that was easy," I vaguely heard Ironhide chuckled as I twisted and moaned against him still ensnared by his continuing actions. Primus, I haven't been this riled up since…since… it's just been a while.

Gradually his hand on my right side slowly worked it's way down, still taking extra care to find each and every node until he had reach my side and started tugging at the wires and rubbing over the cables in my side causing me to arch into him. With a chuckled he pushed me back again as his right hand abandoned my left immediately dipping down to the hip and diving in. Only a practiced mech could find the most sensitive node in the hip so quickly or easily and brush his thumb forcefully over it. My knees nearly collapsed right then the sensation was so powerful coursing through my frame. For the next few minutes he continued his actions before changing it up once again.

I couldn't help but cry out as both his hands brushed down the back of my thighs, cupped them, and pull me up giving me no choice but to wrap my legs around Ironhide's hips to keep from falling despite the fact that his grip had shifted to hold my aft so that I wouldn't drop back down. Grinning mischievously, he rubbed his free hand back and forth along the side of my thigh before massaging it slowly making me involuntarily shiver at the touch. I couldn't understand it. How could I be so intoxicated by Ironhide? How could I be so dependant, so starved for even the slightest of his touches? All my experience, all the vorns of various pick-up lines, partners, and "positions" seemed to not even matter anymore as Ironhide blew even my most memorable times out the sky with definite ease.

Then I felt a hot, almost burning touch press against my codpiece and found his own grinding against mine slowly, telling me what was soon in coming and I knew I couldn't hold on for long. I needed a release by him so badly it started to physically hurt and I was so near the point of begging for the relief not to mention my spark and frame were screaming for Ironhide, to finally have this mech as my own. It was strange, before I would have never thought of Ironhide as a possible partner. He was a friend, a good friend, and a brother in arms but never a berth partner, a frag buddy, or a mate. Never in a thousand vorns would I have picked this trigger-happy mech as such. No it wasn't that he was unattractive; he definitely had some good strong looks on his side. No it wasn't that I didn't like certain "aspects" of his; I was his medic, I had seen those "aspects" plenty and it wasn't anything a mech would find remotely close to disappointing. And, no, it wasn't that he had no style; being around the mech I had most certainly been exposed to probably all of his tactics and moves and they held a charming "Ironhide" quality to them, a quality that couldn't be replicated by any other average mech.

Yet that wonderful train of thought was easily cut off as I suddenly felt his hand moving lower between us and gripping at my codpiece. Frag, is this really happening? Primus pinch me I must have deactivated and gone to the matrix. Then it was final, solidified, as the covering came off and was casually tossed away, fresh air teasing my exposed equipment sending chills throughout my frame. Groaning, I leaned into him burying my face in his shoulder and allowed my glossa to tease at the wiring just out of full reach. A low moan rumbled from him vibrating through me and I could tell he had exposed himself as well. Again I felt those devious fingers trailing around my frame randomly, never letting me know just what he was planning till a hand again moved further and further down and…

I shrieked, yes, I actually shrieked and tugged Ironhide closer, grabbing his mouth with my own and wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling hard almost as if I was trying to get him to meld into my own frame. He moaned softly and pressed me back against the wall leaning forward into the contact as if he needed it to steady himself at the kiss, yet I can't imagine why. It was him affecting me, not the other way around. There was no way I could give Ironhide the same feelings. There was no way I could match the level of processor-blowing bliss I was experiencing. His mere touch was like sending searing hot liquid lust throughout my frame, and driving my processor over the edge with those torturous touches. It was far too much for me to handle for long and the pure pleasure it was bringing me was definitely sinful. Still, I wasn't about to fight against it and I dropped all restraint the next second as Ironhide shifted his grip on my aft, pulling me flush against him and grinding our bare equipment together. It was then I realized that we were beginning the next stage of our strange and complicated relationship with a grand opening of loud groans and heated screams.

* * *

Now I really hoped you liked it. I'm seriously debating to add "details" in the future or if this is good enough. I would really like feedback in that area as you guys are the ones reading it! So lemme know what ya'll think and what I should do for the future, cause let me tell ya a little secret...there are plenty more Hide and Ratchet moments to come! YAY!

Alright, duces!


	9. Midnight Confrontation

Here it is! Finally, after nearly 3 years! I can't believe its been so long! With my crazy job (total time suck), school, trying to actually write a book, some small hope of a social life, and one last big blow with my laptop being stolen (with all my writings on it! D:) I have finally been able to get this chapter out. I HOPE this is the beginning of something new and I can continue to keep on with the updates for all my stories. Poor Incompatible has been suffering the worst and this chapter seems like a personal miracle.

It is a little short unfortunately but I hope with time I will be able to push out more writings with more to them. I didn't want to hold back with this one and get stuck yet again from posting a new chapter so I hope after such a long pause this will help feed some of the starving readers who have demanded a new chapter for so long!

I will delay no further, read on!

* * *

**Ironhide:**

"Get the frag out!" Ratchet yelled and I tried to avoid yet another wrench but it was useless as it smacked hard right on the bridge of my nose. I ran a finger over the hit giving an unhappy grunt when I felt the dent that had been left behind.

"I'm tryin' to apologize!" I shouted at him.

"You should have thought of that BEFORE you dragged your drunk aft into my room in the middle of the fragging night you hopeless moron!"

"C'mon Ratchet, be reasonable."

I knew immediately that was the wrong response as he suddenly froze, his optics flaring dangerously bright.

"REASONABLE!?" he shrieked, "you fragging DARE come in here, wake me up, and call me unreasonable!?"

I leaned back slightly as he stormed up to me and slapped my chest, "you fragger. You came onto ME without even asking or even THINKING what the consequences would be and now that you FINALLY realized what's going on you come here in the middle of the night and fondle me as an APOLOGY! Where the frag in that tiny little microchip of a processor did you think THAT would help at all!?"

"But you liked it," I argued. Whoops, wrong response again. Fraggit, why can't I shut my mouth when it matters? Oh yeah, I'm still a little drunk.

"Get the frag out and don't you dare come back until you have sobered up!" he yelled again.

I wanted to argue further but as soon as I opened my mouth another wrench came into sight and quickly I realized it was time to shut up and run, "right, see you in the mornin'!"

Without looking back, I stumbled out into the hallway and tried to forget the fact I had just awakened a dangerous fiend from the pit. Looking up and down the hallway I tried to decide where to go now. Recharge seemed the best course of action, get some rest and maybe I could approach Ratchet again in the morning with a clearer head. However, that option was more than a little boring. I was overcharged and restless. I needed to blow off some steam. Not even having to give myself time to think twice, I headed towards the training fields. Blasting a few targets into smithereens sounded like a great idea.

The entire range was empty except for the handful of targets out in front of me. The darkness was oddly calming and the silence really seeped into me almost acting like a sobering effect. I don't know why I never came here at night before. I do know would need to do so again. Without any company I felt truly relaxed and this whole new element suddenly became all my own. The dead of night, in near complete darkness, and completely alone I felt unhindered and free.

I gave myself a moment to enjoy this new peace before I looked back out at the targets. They were truly in a pitiful state. All the practicing from the humans and mechs meant there wasn't much target left to aim at. I DID put in a request for new ones months ago but it seems our budget hardly allows Ratchet more than a few rolls of duct tape. Right now, I really just don't care. With my cannons charging up I smiled at the steady hum of their contained power. I rarely practiced here with them since they caused so much destruction, but right now the targets were starting to annoy me and the sight of them obliterated would be very satisfying.

It took me only seconds to leave the field smoldering and obstacle free but the feeling of satisfaction was immediate. Essentially I left the field as a blank slate for the others to come in a rebuild it to their desires and my need to shoot something was fulfilled as well. Honestly, I sounded like a win-win situation to me. Relaxed and a bit more clear-headed I headed back to my room for some much needed recharge finally and tried to avoid thoughts of what tomorrow with Ratchet would bring.

**Ratchet:**

After Ironhide left I had a hard time going back to recharge. How could I? I had finally managed to calm myself from this craziness around me and recharge to only be rudely woken up to a hand groping my aft. Drunk fragger. Unfortunately, what he had said had also affected me. The mech had actually come to apologize. Ironhide never apologized to anyone. Maybe once, to a Con just before he ripped an arm off, but I'm pretty sure that was sarcasm.

I really had no idea how to process what just happened. On one hand I think I would have accepted Ironhide's apology under different circumstances but the fact that he had decided to do it drunk left me with some reasonable doubt to his real intentions for it. I could not deny I wanted some form of acknowledgement from Ironhide about what had happened between us, and another part of me wanted to know if this was more than just an accident. I loved sparkling but I can't deny it hurt at the thought that Hide might have just been wanting nothing more than a frag from me. We don't even have an established relationship between each other other than the sparkbond.

I growled in frustration and picked up my thrown wrenches trying not to think, but my processor was practically buzzing out loud at the thousands of thoughts racing through it. My emotions were extremely unstable already due to this carry and Ironhide was not making it any easier to sort them out. One second I wanted to reassemble him into a trash compactor and the next I was admiring his aft! Primus, I was not going to be able to think clearly until this sparkling was out. I checked the room one more time for any forgotten wrenches before going to the medbay. Working would certainly help take my mind off what was going on. It was easy for me to become absorbed in my work and right now I really could use the time to not have to think about anything more than sorting tools by size.

* * *

I hope this was not too terribly short, especially Ratchet's little bit. Reviews please! I have to know if I have strayed away from the path after such a long absence.

~Stormsailor


End file.
